


Follow Me

by ddelusionall



Series: Walk Beside Me [1]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: Descriptions of hunger, Forced Drug Use, M/M, Minor Violence, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Poverty, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shim Changmin is Bad At Feelings, Sick Character, Strangers to Lovers, i'm only using that tag because of the prostitution, it's more for comfort than lust, minor incest, these are all talked about by the characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddelusionall/pseuds/ddelusionall
Summary: Changmin has a fascination with a street boy named Micky, but what will it take for Micky to trust him and follow him to something better?
Relationships: Park Yoochun/Park Yoohwan, Park Yoochun/Shim Changmin
Series: Walk Beside Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716940
Kudos: 1





	1. Concern

**Author's Note:**

> I am importing my stories from LiveJournal. The original fic can be found [here](http://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/).
> 
> I haven't read this story in a long time, so I may have missed some tags. Just let me know if I did.

**Warnings: prostitution, small amount of incest, mentions of previous physical and sexual abuse, rape, pedophilia, and violence**

Pretty much inspired by this picture:  


Changmin watched the boy from the warmth of his car. He walked to the same spot, under the same light, just to the left of the corner. It was difficult to tell how old he was, but it was not difficult to tell what he was there for. Changmin checked his watch. 10:30. He was early tonight.

_Stalker._

Well, only sort of.

If he was a stalker, Changmin would have known the boy’s name. He would have known where he lived. He would have followed the boy to wherever it was he was staying. But he did not. He sat in his car and watched. It would not take long.

He was dressed to interest, loose pants, loose shirt hanging off a shoulder. The light from the lamp caused sharp shadows at his collarbone and neck. His long hair brushed his bare skin. His lips gleamed red as he sucked on them, making them wet, dark, enticing. Especially his plump lower lip.

Changmin licked his own lips.

Intrigued. He was intrigued. He had no need to pay the boy for his services, refused to do so, but everything about him was so intriguing. Even the way he paced in the light, waiting for someone to pick him up. Even the way nerves took over and he crouched down, hiding his face in his hands for a moment, and then springing back up.

Changmin assumed that the boy did not want to do this but had no other choice, and Changmin wanted to know why.

Concern. That’s what it was. He was concerned. A stalker would not be concerned.

In less than ten minutes, a car cruised to a stop, and the boy smiled widely. Changmin recognized the car. A regular. And not one that kept the boy long. Changmin watched until the boy climbed into the passenger side of the car.

It was still early. Changmin usually left as soon as the boy had a customer, but he decided to wait. He took out his phone and noted a missed call from Minho, a man he was dating. And then a text message.

_Let’s go out for a drink._

Changmin said he couldn’t, that he was busy, but breakfast in the morning?

Minho sent him a heart in response.

Changmin checked his work email, replied to a few that could have waited until Monday, but were urgent enough. He checked his social media.

The white car was back before eleven, and the boy climbed out of the car. His hair was messier than before, but he was still smiling and waving as the car drove off. As soon as the car turned a corner, the boy lost his grin and lurched to the alleyway, where it was dark.

Concerned, Changmin rolled down his window and heard the boy retching.

So he definitely did not want to be doing this.

The boy moved back into the light, paler than normal, wiping his hand over his mouth. He leaned against the wall, boot up on the brick, head tilted back. His adam’s apple bobbed, like he was fighting off tears. He dug into his pocket for gum.

Changmin frowned.

His next customer was on foot and he strained to hear the conversation, but he was too far away to hear their voices. The boy was touchy with this one, smiling up at him, playing with the buttons on his shirt. The man returned the touches, pulling at his long hair, sliding his hands under the shirt. The boy led the man into the dark.

These noises Changmin heard even if he saw nothing more than shadowed movement of fucking. Grunts and moans, high tight whimpers. Flesh smacking together.

Why did the boy do this? Why was he whoring himself out when he did not want to? He could have gotten a job in a kitchen or as a delivery boy? Anything. Why was he doing this?

Changmin wondered again how old he was. He looked entirely too young to be doing any of this.

Once again, the boy was back at his corner in less than a half hour.

Changmin watched six more men use the boy, until the boy finally left at almost three.

Changmin did not follow him. He was not a stalker.

\---

_Intrigued._

More like sick in the head.

Every week Changmin said he would not go see the boy and every week he was there, watching as at least one man used him. His relationship with Minho withered away, knowing that Minho had found someone to give him the attention he needed. He saw them once, at a cafe, making lovey dovey eyes at each other.

It did not hurt. Not nearly as much as it did when Changmin sat in his car and watched the boy’s corner for two nights in a row without seeing him. Cars cruised passed, regular customers.

Changmin left and drank himself into a stupor on a Saturday night until he managed to admit that he was a stalker.

And maybe a little bit in love with someone that was obviously too young for him and someone whose name he did not even know.

\---

Changmin waited around the corner that he always saw the boy turn when he was in his normal spot. He had no idea if the boy noticed his car parked half a block down on a normal night.

Normal. Nothing about this was normal.

But he waited, and after two weeks without seeing him, Changmin was not disappointed. But he also had noticed the regulars circling. He was not the only one who wanted to see this boy. But his motivations were different.

They were. He convinced himself they were different.

It took all of his self control not to drive after the boy right away. He waited another two minutes before starting his car and turning the corner. The boy leaned against his wall, and luckily, Changmin saw no one else. His heart raced, his hands were sweaty on the steering wheel. He pressed the brakes too hard as he came to stop in front of the boy’s spot.

He was even more beautiful up close with plump lips and round cheeks, complete with a dimple as he flashed his smile at Changmin’s car window. He wore tight jeans tonight, an open billowy shirt that showed off teasing glimpses his chest and collarbones.

He noticed someone walking down the sidewalk and Changmin quickly lowered the window. The boy pushed off from the wall and leaned into the window.

“Hi,” he said.

Changmin swallowed and tried to reply.

The boy frowned. “Are you a cop?”

Changmin shook his head.

“What do you want?”

He licked his lips and said, “You.” Because it was more of the truth than anything else the others said to him.

He tilted his head to the side. “That’s sort of a given, sir. Care to be more specific?”

Changmin just wanted the boy to get into his car before he went off with someone else. “B-blow j-job?” he managed and winced when it came out more of a squeak.

The boy laughed. It was a fake laugh. Changmin wondered what his real laugh sounded like. “You haven’t ever done this before, have you?”

Changmin shook his head.

The boy laughed again and climbed into his car. He settled himself down in the seat and put on his seatbelt.

Changmin stared. God, the boy was beautiful. He had so many questions. Too many questions.

“Go straight,” the boy said.

Changmin jolted in surprise at the voice. It was much deeper now that they were in his car. Shaking, he put the car in gear and drove straight. The boy’s hand, long fingers, soft skin, pretty nails, landed on his thigh and Changmin almost drove onto the sidewalk.

“Hey, relax,” he said and squeezed. “Turn left.”

He kept his eyes on the road, his mind on the boy’s hand on his leg. He followed the instructions until they were on a dark street. Deserted.

Changmin swallowed as he turned the car off.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” he said and unfastened his seatbelt. He slid his fingers to Changmin’s crotch.

Changmin shook his head. “Don’t ... I ... I can’t ... I can’t do this. This isn’t ...”

“You aren’t making sense,” the boy said, but he moved his hand.

Changmin gripped the steering wheel and pressed his forehead against it. He bit his lip against telling the boy that he had been watching him for almost three months. “I just ... thought I ...”

“Are you married or something?”

Changmin shook his head, skin grip-sliding on the steering wheel. He turned his head to look at the boy. “How ... how much is a blow job?”

The boy shrugged. “I charge a hundred. I’ve been told that’s rather cheap.”

Which explained all his customers.

Changmin was still shaking as he sat up and dug in his back pocket for his wallet.

“I’m not going to let you pay me if I don’t give you a blow job.”

“I ... I can’t ... I just ... What’s your name?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “Micky.”

Fake name.

Changmin sighed. He should have expected that. “Why do you do this?” he muttered and then turned his head away. He had not meant to ask that. He took a hundred dollar bill from his pocket.

The boy did not answer. Changmin had not expected him to. He held out the bill. The boy looked at it.

“You can’t--”

“For wasting your time,” Changmin said. “I ... You need it. You must need money if you’re doing this. Please take it. I’m sorry. I thought ...”

The bill left his fingers.

“You thought what?”

Changmin swallowed. “I thought ... I thought ... I just wanted to talk to you.” Changmin finally looked over at him. “I’m sorry.”

The boy grinned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to suck you off?”

Changmin shook his head.

“Okay.” The boy took a very deep breath. “I don’t mind talking. No one ever wants to talk with me, just to me. How pretty my lips are, how tight my ass is, how sexy I look covered in come.” He took another breath, this one small, quick. A hitch of breath. A few seconds later, he looked out the window. “I do this for the money,” he whispered, “not because I like it.”

“You can ... get another job,” Changmin offered.

“I have one. During the day. It doesn’t pay enough for ... me. It’s not ... enough.”

Changmin nodded. “Where?”

The boy smiled and shook his head.

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

Changmin raised an eyebrow.

“I am. I promise. Normally when men ask me that, I tell them I’m sixteen because they give me more money. But I’m eighteen. Barely, but I’m eighteen.”

Changmin believed him. “How long ...”

“Six months.” He rubbed his thighs. “You never get used to it.”

The last was said very softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“My decision.”

“I know but ...” Changmin did not know how to end that sentence. He let it fall, imagining the word dropping to the floor of the car, creating some kind of sound in the silence.

Micky. The boy ... kind of a boy. Changmin was not sure. All he knew is that the last ten minutes were well worth the hundred dollars, and he would gladly pay Micky five times that to just spend the evening with him.

But he did not suggest it. He started the car. He took Micky back to his light.

He continued watching.

\---

It was two a.m. the next time Changmin picked Micky up. It had been three weeks.

Micky had suffered through a rough day. His lip was split and he was limping. Changmin decided to give him a break before the next man could show up. He watched Micky’s face as he pulled up. The boy tried to smile, and then he shut his eyes with a sigh.

Changmin rolled down his window and said, “Hey.”

The next smile was real. “Hi.” Micky wasted no time getting into the car. Changmin pulled away from the spot.

“You okay?” Changmin asked.

Micky swallowed. “Yeah. Someone was too rough.” He pulled down the visor and looked at himself in the small mirror, poking at his split lip.

Changmin frowned.

“You know,” Micky said while Changmin drove through the city, “you never did tell me your name last time.”

Changmin swallowed. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I’ve been calling you Mister Mysterious.”

Changmin laughed and smiled at him. “Sorry. About last time. I was a bit of a mess.”

“Does that mean I get to suck on you tonight?”

Changmin shook his head. “No.”

“Too bad.”

Changmin changed lanes and got on the freeway before saying, “Shim Changmin.”

“And what do you do, Shim Changmin-shi, besides whisking away poor little street boys for a drive?”

“I work at KBS.”

Micky whistled. “Wow.”

“It’s nothing so glamourous. I’m an intern and I mainly just make sure stuff is set up right, like cameras and stage props and things. I want to be a sports broadcaster.”

“No offense, but you look younger than me.”

Changmin shook his head. “Twenty-four. I just finished college. Broadcasting major.”

“Cool. Where are you taking me?”

“No where,” Changmin said and then looked over at him. “Really. Just ... driving.”

The boy smiled and relaxed. “Can I turn on the radio?”

“Sure.”

Micky flipped through the stations before settling on a pop station that usually made Changmin’s skin crawl.

“I tried out for a company,” Changmin said, “when I was fourteen. I didn’t make it. They liked my singing, but I can’t dance at all.”

Micky chuckled. “That would have been fun.”

Changmin wanted to ask him about school, his work, his family, everything. He wanted to know everything about Micky. Instead, he kept his mouth shut, and when he got off the freeway a few minutes later, Micky was asleep. He kept driving, tossing glances at Micky and the bruise on his collarbone that burned a deeper purple than before. He drove until he felt like a kidnapper and then pulled in front of an all-night ramen shop.

He reached over and shook Micky’s shoulder, whispering his name.

Micky yawned and blinked his eyes and then sat up straight with a shout. His eyes focused on Changmin and he relaxed with a heavy sigh. “Sorry.”

Changmin grinned. “It’s okay. Are you hungry?”

Micky nodded.

Changmin climbed out of the car and entered the restaurant.

“Fuck, is it really almost four in the morning?”

“Yeah.”

Micky rubbed his face. “I need to go home.”

“Let me feed you, and then I’ll take you home.”

Micky pondered him for a moment and then agreed. They ate mostly in silence, until Micky stopped and Changmin knew it wasn’t because he was full.

“Keep eating.”

“I ...” Micky looked away. “I’ll take it home.”

“Finish it,” Changmin said. “I’ll buy you another to take home.”

Micky looked guilty as he agreed and Changmin smiled. He got up and ordered another bowl of ramen to go.

Micky worried his lower lip, biting and sucking on it as they left the restaurant and got back into Changmin’s car.

“Where do you live?”

Micky shook his head. “Take me back.”

Changmin found that he could not argue with him even if he wanted to know where Micky lived. The ride back was quiet and awkward. Micky looked out the window. When they stopped, near Micky’s corner but not quite, Changmin pulled out his wallet.

“No,” Micky said. “You bought me dinner.”

“Then I consider that a date, and I want another one.”

Micky frowned.

“You could have had at least one more customer before I picked you up. You’ve been with me for over two hours.” Changmin held out two hundreds this time. “Take it, please.”

“Then this isn’t a date.”

“No, it’s not. But I would like one. With you.”

Micky took the two bills. “I don’t date customers. Thank you for dinner. Please don’t follow me.” He climbed out of the car before Changmin could fully protest.

Changmin waited until Micky disappeared, and then drove home. He felt inexplicably dirty, like he had Micky’s lips on his cock, had growled praises at him, came in his mouth, all over his face. He did not understand why.

Changmin fell face first into his bed and moaned. He did not move and willed his erection away.


	2. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changmin has a fascination with a street boy named Micky, but what will it take for Micky to trust him and follow him to something better?

Changmin stayed away for two weeks before the need to see Micky drove him back to the corner. It was closer to midnight, and Micky wasn’t there. He cursed, pulled up into his spot half way down the block and waited. It took two hours.

When a car pulled to a stop and Micky practically fell out of the car, Changmin started his. By the time Changmin pulled to the curb, Micky had gained his feet, but he was obviously hurt.

“Fuck,” Changmin said and clambered out of the driver’s side. “Are you okay?”

Micky smiled. The light caught a bruise and a cut on his cheek. He stumbled into Changmin. “Numb.”

“Shit,” Changmin growled and put Micky into the passenger seat of his car. He practically hood-slid to the driver’s side and was glad he hadn’t shut the car off. He thought of going to the hospital, but Micky probably did not want that. He also did not want to be blamed for his wounds. He went to his apartment instead.

Micky was a bit delirious. As soon as the car stopped, he opened the door and threw up.

Changmin hurried to the side and helped him from the car.

“Min. Min. Min min. Missed you, Mister Mysterious.”

Changmin smiled. “I missed you, too.” He was lucky there was no one in the elevator or in the hallway to his apartment. He fumbled with the key, attempting to keep Micky up at the same time. For the first time in his life, he did not take off his shoes, but walked through his apartment and took Micky right to the bathroom.

“God,” Micky said, wincing against the bright lights. Changmin quickly started taking off his clothes to check for injuries.

He stopped, hands at Micky’s back and stared at the thin lines crisscrossing his back. Scars. From a whip. A belt. Something. Old scars. Changmin looked up, staring at Micky in the mirror. Micky had his eyes shut, moaning.

Right. Pain. Anything serious first. Changmin cleared his throat and continued to check his body, but beyond a few bruises, he saw nothing serious.

“Changmin?”

“Huh?”

Micky’s face went pale again and he shoved Changmin to the side, falling to his knees to throw up in the toilet. He stayed on the floor.

Changmin kneeled next to him, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead. He flushed the mess down the toilet.

“Drugged,” Micky muttered.

Changmin nodded even if Micky couldn’t see. He stayed there for a moment longer and then stood up. He turned on his shower, wishing he had a bathtub, and made the water warm, not hot. Micky struggled to stand, but eventually walked into the shower and just fell against the wall.

Changmin sighed and made a decision. He stripped and climbed in with him, one arm around Micky’s waist, the other adjusting the spray to get his hair wet. Micky moaned, but did not move and allowed Changmin to wash his hair, and his body.

Changmin shut his eyes as he pressed a finger inside Micky to clean him out. And Micky whimpered. It was quick, Changmin could not stand more. His erection was already brushing Micky’s hip.

“Blow job now?” Micky asked with a upward quirk of an eyebrow.

Changmin shook his head and tried to hurry, rinsing them both off. Micky stumbled from the shower with a groan. Changmin quickly wrapped a towel around his head and tried to dry him off. But Micky snagged it, pulled it up to his face, and just breathed in.

“Fuck.”

Changmin watched him, to make sure he wouldn’t fall, before grabbing his own towel. He was mostly dry when Micky started swaying. Changmin caught him around the middle and made some garbled sense of “you’re okay” and “I’ve got you” and “just relax.” He took Micky to his bedroom and let him lay down on his futon.

Micky moaned, twisted around naked with all of Changmin’s pillows bunched around him, and then he didn’t move. Changmin made sure Micky’s chest was rising and falling with his breathing before forcing himself to turn away from his body, from the way his legs were open, one knee bent, showing off his ass. His entrance, his cock and balls.

Changmin went back into the bathroom for some quick self help.

\---

Micky staggered into the kitchen a couple hours later. He leaned over the sink and then turned on the water and shoved his face under the flow, drinking deeply. Changmin looked up from his chair, laptop on his lap.

Micky was still naked. He turned around saw Changmin and huffed. “Good, I’m glad that wasn’t my imagination.”

Changmin smiled. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I hate it when assholes drug me. I’m a fucking prostitute. It’s not like they can’t just fuck me anyway.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He looked around and found a clock and cursed again. “Do you have a phone I can borrow?”

Changmin nodded and pointed to the counter where his cell phone was plugged in. Micky grabbed it and dialed a number.

“Hey ... I’m fine ... got drugged, but another john helped me out ... I had to sleep it off, love ... Yeah, I’m sorry I woke you ...”

_Love._

Changmin tuned out the rest of the conversation. Micky was seeing someone. Someone outside of the johns. Someone that obviously knew what he did.

Changmin doubted he stood a chance.

“Why are you doing this?” Micky asked, and his laptop was moved. A very naked Micky straddled his lap, sitting back on his knees, hands on his shoulders.

“Because ... I ...”

_I like you. I want you. You’re mine. Protect you. Shouldn’t ..._

Changmin swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Micky sighed and trailed his fingers along Changmin’s neck, playing with his ears. It seemed almost unconscious. Changmin tried very hard not to get hard again ... and failed.

“You aren’t going to try to pay me, right? I mean ... you’ve done all this for me. I don’t want you to give me more money.”

Changmin shrugged. It didn’t seem like there was a better time than now. To ask for what he wanted. But he had called someone else ‘love’. He had ...

Changmin shut his eyes, fingers gripping the arms of the chair. Micky dragged fingertips down his arms, took his hands, and put them at his own waist. Changmin swallowed, clammy hands just above Micky’s ass. He barely dared to breathe let alone move. He could feel the welts and scars under his fingertips.

“Changmin-hyung,” Micky whispered and leaned forward. “Open your eyes.”

Changmin shook his head.

“Why not?”

“I ... you ... this ... I can’t. I’m not.”

Micky chuckled. “I think I understand. You don’t want to treat me like a whore?”

Changmin shook his head again, more frantically.

“But you can look at me. There is no harm in that.”

“If I look at you, I’m going to want to kiss you, and if I kiss you, I am not going to stop touching you and take you to my bed and I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do that to you.”

Micky shifted and pressed in close, breath hot against Changmin’s neck. His hand slid up Micky’s back and hugged him. He hadn’t meant to, but Micky did not squirm to get away. He felt it safe to open his eyes and saw just the top of Micky’s head and his fluffy hair. The curve of his spine. The way his ribs stick out a little. The old scars up and down his back.

He lifted a shaking hand and ran his fingers through Micky’s hair. He hummed in surprise, but did nothing more than shift closer to Changmin’s body.

“Did you sleep?” Micky asked, deep voice rumbling down Changmin’s skin.

“N-no.”

“You should. Do you mind if I borrow some clothes?”

Changmin cleared his throat. “No.”

“Thanks for being so sweet, Changmin-hyung,” Micky said and kissed his neck before climbing from his lap.

Changmin fought the urge to never let him go. He kept his eyes shut until he heard Micky in his bedroom. He groaned, rubbing his face, and knew that Micky was right. He needed sleep. He needed Micky.

Standing, Changmin staggered and almost fell into the wall. He went to the bedroom just in time to see Micky pull one of his plain t-shirts over his head. He was already wearing a pair of Changmin’s shorts. The shadows caused by the low light made the scars stand out even more as thin lines crisscrossing his pale skin.

“Micky?” Changmin whispered.

Micky turned to face him.

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat before you go?”

“Thank you, please.”

Changmin went the other way, unsteady on his feet. He did not have much beyond leftover rice and kimchi and some frozen fish, but he heated it all up, and then remembered at the restaurant. Had Micky taken the extra food to his lover?

Changmin sighed. It did not matter who it was for if Micky needed it. Changmin made sure to make extra food for him to take home.

\---

“Do you need a ride?” Changmin asked as Micky moved to the door to slip on his sandals.

Micky shook his head. “I know where I am. I’ll walk from here. Don’t follow me.”

Changmin tried not to sigh. Micky looked up and smiled at him. He walked over and put his arms around Changmin’s neck, stepping close for a hug. Changmin wrapped his arms around Micky’s thin waist and just held him, face buried in his neck.

“I’ll be fine,” Micky whispered. “I promise.”

“I want to see you again.”

Micky pulled away and smiled. “Any time. You know where I work.” He winked.

Changmin rolled his eyes. “That is not what I meant.”

Micky shrugged, the movement releasing him from Changmin’s grasp. “I already told you, I don’t date clients.”

“You have--” Changmin stopped at the word ‘boyfriend.’ Technically, he had no idea if Micky was gay or straight. “You have a lover,” he finally said.

Micky smiled and shook his head. “Not yet. Maybe one day.”

“Then who ...” Changmin stopped talking. “Sorry. It’s not my business.”

Micky chuckled. “No, it’s not. I’m glad you care, Mister Mysterious, but you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last. I don’t date clients.”

Changmin pouted.

With another smile, Micky slipped in close, touched Changmin’s cheek and pressed a light kiss to his lips. “Thank you. For taking care of me.”

With him so close, Changmin succumbed and hugged him tightly. He wanted a deeper kiss, a heavier one. He never wanted their lips to part. But he understood. Micky had to protect himself. And whoever it was that he called “love” so tenderly.

“Come over, whenever you need to,” Changmin said, “whenever you need anything.”

“I will.”

Micky opened the door and Changmin made a noise of protest. He did not want to watch Micky leave. Ever.

Micky glanced at him, eyebrow raised.

“Can I see you again?”

Micky smiled. “Of course.”

“It won’t ... It’s not ... weird, or ...”

“No. I still owe you a blow job remember?”

Changmin spluttered.

Micky laughed. “I’m kidding. You can come and see me whenever you want. You know where I’ll be.”

With that, Micky tossed him half a salute and left the room. The door shut softly but it sounded like a slam in Changmin’s brain. He staggered to his chair and slumped into it. Crying. God, his emotions were a mess. Just from this boy. This whore. Changmin wanted him to stop being a whore. Changmin wanted him to be his boyfriend.

God, he needed to sleep.

\----

Changmin went and saw Micky every other week. Every pay day. He did not exactly have the money for it, but he had been very cheap during college and he started to use the money in his savings account. It wasn’t a smart idea, but he had to give Micky something. Micky needed it much more than he did. He picked Micky up and drove them around, bought him dinner some nights, gave him a break from fucking and sucking. He always gave Micky a hundred dollars.

It was a fucked up, pseudo version of dating and Changmin knew it.

Micky relaxed as the weeks went by. He smiled widely when he recognized Changmin’s car. He gripped his hand during the drive, leaned against his shoulder in restaurants. He laughed freely. He kissed on the lips freely. He talked freely. Never about his past or family or welts on his back. Or his lover.

The first time Micky came over to Changmin’s house, it was a Tuesday night, seven p.m. Changmin had just crawled into bed, tired after a twelve hour shift at his job and knowing he needed to be back at the studio by two in the morning for some live night recording of some rookie group of idols.

He ignored the doorbell the first time, but when it rang again, he got out of bed with a sigh. He staggered through the dark, half asleep and rubbing his eyes.He opened the door, blinking blurriness away. At a sharp intake of breath, Changmin realized he was only wearing boxers.

And then he realized it was Micky at his door and his eyes went wide, head clearing and it was his turn to gasp in surprise.

Micky pushed past him and the door shut.

“Um, hi,” Changmin said, voice breaking a little.

“Shut up,” Micky demanded, and then hands were around his neck and Micky pressed against him, kissing, yep, kissing, and Changmin staggered back, hands around Micky’s waist to support them as they slammed against the door.

It was a good twenty years later (twenty years of Micky’s lips, Micky’s tongue, Micky’s gasps into his mouth, Micky’s hands sliding on his body) before Micky pulled away.

He smiled and his hands flexed where they gripped Changmin’s sides. “Sorry. Hi.”

Changmin’s head thunked to the door.

Micky’s mouth went right to his neck.

“Fuck, Micky, what?”

“Your fault.” He lifted his head and smiled. “You never told me you were so fucking sexy.”

“Huh?”

Micky laughed. “Your body, dumbass. You’re gorgeous.”

“Work out.”

Micky snorted and went back to his neck. “Obviously.” He kissed down his shoulder, sliding his body along Changmin’s on his way to his knees. He pulled Changmin’s boxers down, and the first touch of tongue to his cock, had Changmin groaning, cursing his self-control, and pushing Micky away all at the same time.

Micky sat back on his knees and pouted up at him.

Changmin moaned and yanked his boxers back up.

“Hyung!”

“Oh god.” He stayed against the door, eyes shut, and jerked when Micky ran his hands up his thighs.

“Could have sworn this is what you wanted,” Micky said, he walked his fingers up Changmin’s erection.

Changmin put his face in his hands, breath whooshing between his fingers.

Eventually, Micky used Changmin’s hips to pull himself back up and he moved Changmin’s hands to press a kiss to his mouth. “Were you sleeping?” Micky whispered.

Changmin nodded. “Trying. Long day. Early shift tomorrow.”

“I did not mean to--”

Changmin shook his head. “It’s fine. I ... wasn’t asleep yet.”

“I can go.”

“Don’t.”

Micky smiled and took Changmin’s hand. He walked backwards toward Changmin’s bedroom. “A nap sounds like a great idea.”

“Why ... why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“M’glad,” Changmin whispered and let Micky push him to the bed. He was shaking a little when Micky climbed in with him. But Micky lay on his side, pressed against Changmin and relaxed. His hand ran up and down Changmin’s chest and abs. It wasn’t sexual, but comforting. Even a bit relaxing. He smiled and turned on his side, manhandling Micky a bit despite his grumbles. He lay his arm around Micky’s middle, pulling him a little closer.

It was much easier to fall asleep.


	3. Trust

Half-asleep, pleasure twisting up his spine, tingles zooming along his skin, and a hot mouth working at his cock. There were worse ways to wake up.

“Fuck,” Changmin muttered, trying to decide if he was dreaming. But no, his skin felt sweaty, his legs were pinned. Opening his eyes, he had to blink to clear his blurry vision. The sight of Micky between his legs, mouth on his cock, up and down, lips wet and red, hand gripping his balls, had Changmin coming, shouting out the last of his delusions and whimpering at the sensitive touch of Micky’s mouth.

Micky let go with his hand and took Changmin down to the hilt, on the way back up, Changmin quaked through his orgasm and his warning was lost as he came. Micky did not gag and Changmin’s vision went spotty and he moaned, fingers tangling in Micky’s hair.

“Not fair,” Changmin managed.

Micky laughed, vibrations along his body and skin. He pulled off, and Changmin noted the condom on his dick and was disappointed that Micky hadn’t tasted him. Wasn’t his lover. Just a whore. He trailed his finger down Micky’s cheek.

“Fuck.”

Micky smirked and climbed over his lap. He sat firmly with his ass on Changmin’s thighs and then ran his hands up and down Changmin’s abs. “You’re sexy. I wanted to suck on your cock. And you wouldn’t let me if you knew.”

Changmin threw an arm over his face. Micky trailed his fingers up his side, to his armpit, and Changmin shivered from the tickle it caused.

“And your alarm went off and you slept through it.”

Changmin sat up with a shout, toppling Micky off him and then off the futon. Changmin scrambled to the floor to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

“Fuck, sorry.”

Micky laughed, and then laughed harder as the condom slipped off Changmin’s dick and landed on the floor, expelling its contents.

“Fuck.”

Micky continued to laugh and pulled Changmin down on top of him. Changmin put his hands on either side of Micky’s head, and only sort of fought the tug and then the lips against his.

Micky ran his hands all over Changmin’s bare back, down to his ass, and up around his neck. The kiss was almost violent, definitely intense, stealing Changmin’s ability to breathe or think beyond the moment.

Until his phone started beeping. Right.

He’d set two alarms, just in case he slept through the first one. He pulled away and sighed.

Micky smiled up at him. “You have to get up?”

Changmin nodded. “You can stay,” he added, “if you need to. Just lock the door on your way out.”

His smiled widened. “I’d like that actually.”

“No one to run home to?” Changmin asked. He knew he was prying. He was surprised that Micky wasn’t upset.

Micky chuckled. “Maybe.” He touched Changmin’s cheek. “I like you, Mister Mysterious.”

Even as Changmin leaned into the touch, he said, “That is more of a title for you than for me.”

“Maybe,” he said again. “You better get up even though I want you to bend me in half and fuck me into this floor.”

Changmin groaned, suddenly remembering that his hips were against Micky’s, flush together, cock against cock, and he rocked slowly, leaning down for another kiss.

“Next time,” Micky whispered. “You need to go to work.”

Changmin nodded. He moved a few more times and then pushed himself up. Micky trailed his fingertips down Changmin’s abs.

“God, don’t do that,” Changmin said, shivering and just barely keeping himself from falling back down, arms strained.

“Next time I’ll trace them with my tongue.”

“Fuck.” Changmin forced himself away, onto his feet, to the door. Micky’s laughter followed him across the hall and into the bathroom. He took an extra long shower even if jerking off only took five minutes with the thought and memories of Micky’s mouth on his cock. He stood under the spray and tried to think of ways to show Micky how much Changmin liked him. How much Changmin wanted to date him, protect him. Keep him.

Changmin sighed as he dried off. He was quiet as he got dressed. Micky was cocooned in his blankets and pillows, with only having a futon, he needed lots of pillows to be comfortable. It was very tempting to climb in under the covers with him.

As he headed toward the door, he had a thought. He stopped, took out his wallet, and a hundred dollar bill. He also left a note, telling Micky to take some food home with him. He signed the note “Mister Mysterious.”

\---

When Changmin staggered back into his apartment, at almost ten in the morning, he almost missed the note on his counter. And the hundred dollar bill had been folded into an origami heart.

A few hearts had been drawn around the edges of the note he had left, and underneath it, Micky had written:

_You shouldn’t pay your dates if you do not want them to feel like hookers afterwards. Call me when you get home. I programed my number into your phone last night. Talk to you soon!_

_Park Yoochun aka: The Other Mister Mysterious_

Park Yoochun.

Changmin leaned hard against his counter. Park Yoochun. His name was Park Yoochun.

Changmin dropped his phone twice before holding it in shaking hands and finding Yoochun’s name programed into his phone. His finger hovered over the call icon and then he pressed it. The phone was shaking against his ear. He had to sit. And he collapsed into his chair just as someone answered.

“Hello?”

The voice was deeper on the phone.

Changmin could not reply. Barely breathe.

There was soft laughter. “Even mysterious on the phone, huh?”

“H-hi,” Changmin managed.

“Hi.”

“I .. you ... I ... sorry. I ... fuck ... Yoochun. Fuck.”

Yoochun laughed, the sound muffled. “I’ll talk for a little while since you can’t seem to, if that’s okay with you.”

Changmin made a noise.

Yoochun took it as affirmation. “Thank you for letting me take some food home. It saves me a little bit of money that I can use for medicine.”

“Medicine?”

“Yeah.” He did not elaborate. “How was your day at work?”

“Thought about you,” Changmin said, whispering. He couldn’t get his voice any louder, still in shock.

Micky ... Yoochun ...

Yoochun chuckled. “You must be tired.”

Changmin swallowed, nodded, remembered Yoochun was not actually there and said, “Yeah. A little.”

“I’ll let you go.”

This time, his noise was one of protest, and Yoochun laughed again. “Silly, I’ll talk to you again. I was going to ask if you wanted to meet later, after you’ve slept.”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay. Go and sleep. Call me when you wake up.”

“I will. God, Yoochun-ah, I ...”

Yoochun laughed. “I know. Sleep well.”

“You ... yeah.”

Yoochun said goodbye, and Changmin sat stunned with the phone by his ear for a long moment afterward. He finally sagged into the chair, phone clattering to the floor. He leaned back and took a very deep breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

He had not expected this at all, but he was not going to screw it up. He was not going to lose Micky. Lose Yoochun.

Yoochun. His name was Yoochun.

Changmin bolted out of the chair, went to the bathroom to take a shower, and this time, with his hand around his cock, he moaned “Yoochun” as he splattered his release all over the wall.

\---

Changmin was never sure when Yoochun would show up at his apartment. Sometimes it was at three in the morning, sometimes five in the afternoon. He rarely went to Micky's light, and the thought that Yoochun still did that, still sold himself made Changmin half-angry, half-resigned, and mostly determined. He did not want Yoochun to do that anymore.

But any time Changmin tried to give Yoochun money, Yoochun refused to take it. Usually, he folded the bill into another pretty shape --a crane, a frog, a house, a cat-- and left it on his countertop. Even if Changmin had explained that it had never been a client paying a hooker to him, Yoochun still did not take his money. When Changmin handed him a key to his apartment, Yoochun stared at it for a moment, but eventually took it. That was enough.

And waking up with Yoochun against his body was Changmin’s new favorite thing. Well, second favorite. Yoochun loved to wake him up with a blowjob. They did not go further than that. Changmin understood. Yoochun was protecting himself and protecting his heart. Changmin was sure that Yoochun had never dated anyone, and Changmin’s experiences were limited to club hook ups that did not last more than a few weeks after.

This was different.

And as Changmin sat in his car, staring at Micky under the street light, he resigned himself to the fact that his boyfriend was a whore. A prostitute. A hooker. He could not stand it. He probably bent his steering wheel, gripping it tightly and growling when a man took Micky to an alley, or when Micky climbed into another man’s car. He almost demanded that Yoochun stop, that he quit selling himself.

But that wasn’t really fair when Yoochun obviously needed the money. He just hated sharing. He had never really been good at it.

Changmin waited until one in the morning before gliding to a stop in front of Micky's light.

Yoochun smiled widely and pushed off the wall. Changmin’s own smile was strained, and as soon as the door was shut, he drove away, saying nothing.

“Minnie-ah?” Yoochun said and touched his cheek.

Changmin jerked away from him.

Yoochun huffed and crossed his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Changmin took a very deep breath. He thought of lying, of staying silent, but knew he couldn’t. He had to be honest with Yoochun if this relationship was more than just Client-Hooker.

“I just ... I don’t like sharing you. At all.”

Yoochun chuckled. “I know. I do not plan on doing this forever.”

Changmin nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

With another smile, Yoochun gripped Changmin’s thigh. “Let’s go somewhere different.”

“Okay.”

Changmin followed Yoochun’s directions to a city street about a half hour from Micky’s light, narrow and packed full of people even this early in the morning. There was a small area for parking and Yoochun shouted in joy that there was an empty space.

“Otherwise we’d be walking fifteen minutes.”

Changmin put the car into the small space and climbed out. He made sure it was locked, triple checking it because who knew in this neighborhood?

“Follow me,” Yoochun said and smiled.

Changmin’s chest tightened and he hurried after him. Around a corner, the throngs of clubbers and whores blocked their way, and Yoochun grabbed his hand to stay close. They were only out on the street for a short time before Yoochun ducked under an awning and went down some stairs. He led them into a club, the bass thumping along the walls. Changmin did not want to spend the night with other people in a club. He would have protested, but Yoochun pulled him along the inside wall, waved to the bartender and went through a door in the back.

The music still thudded along the walls, but it was a suggestion of privacy, silence. The only way to go was up a steep set of concrete stairs.

Yoochun kept hold of his hand and went up. At the top was another door. This one led out onto a roof, surrounded by neon lights and signs. And almost hidden in the corner was another set of stairs, and Yoochun went up them, through another door and into a short hallway. There were three doors in the hallway, and he slipped a key into a lock and opened it.

Changmin stepped in, and the door shut behind him. The first thing he noticed was the boy standing across the room from him, his mouth open in shock.

His hair was longer than Yoochun’s, pulled back away from a face that looked just like Yoochun’s, a little thinner, a little gaunter, and a little younger. He wore shorts and a tank top that looked like it was going to fall apart soon.

Yoochun shifted by Changmin and went to the other. “Hi, baby.” He hugged him, and the boy’s cheeks went pink, but he hugged Yoochun back. He said something that Changmin did not hear.

Changmin’s throat tightened as their lips just barely pressed together. He looked away from the tender moment.

The room was nothing but four walls. One corner held a single futon, a thin blanket, and a few pillows. A comfortable-looking chair was in another corner. There were plastic crates along the only wall with a window, and they were full of clothes, shoes, a few books. And the corner where the two boys still hugged held crates of food and a cooktop.

Yoochun had turned around, watching him, with his arms still around the boy. The boy had his face half-hidden in Yoochun’s neck.

“Baby, this is Changmin.”

The boy’s eyes went wide in understanding and he twisted behind Yoochun’s back. Yoochun chuckled.

“Changmin, this is my younger brother, Yoohwan.”


	4. Understanding

It was so quiet. Changmin had no idea what to say. He stared, mouth open before he realized it and then quickly shut it. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

Lots and lots of things made a lot more sense to Changmin. The two looked almost exactly alike, and had Changmin not known Yoochun, he would have had a hard time telling who was older.

Brother. A younger brother.

And they lived in this small room, with barely enough things to be called possessions.

Changmin really did understand now. But he did not understand the way Yoochun’s fingertips pushed under the tank top and were obviously caressing Yoohwan’s skin.

Yoohwan started coughing, curling into Yoochun even more.

Yoochun hugged him, face tight with worry. He rubbed his hands up and down Yoohwan’s back, lifting the tank top, probably unconsciously. The same thin scars covered what Changmin could see of his skin.

“He ... he has chronic bronchitis,” Yoochun whispered in a moment where Yoohwan was not coughing. “Which means he gets colds more easily than others. And asthma attacks.”

 _Medicine._ Yoochun sold himself for medicine. For his brother.

Changmin leaned against the door. That answered one question, but now, he had even more. This small room, this small boy, this ... Changmin felt a little overwhelmed.

“Do you need some water, love?” Yoochun whispered, smoothing down the back of Yoohwan’s hair.

Yoohwan shook his head, breath gasping. “Are -- are you leaving again?”

“Not right now. Come on. Come sit.”

“But--” He turned his head to their cooktop and the pot of water on it.

“Leave it.” Yoochun led his brother to their only chair. He sat down and pulled Yoohwan into his lap. The boy curled up, smiling, and his lips touched his brother’s neck for a moment. His eyes shut with a content sigh. He coughed a couple more times. Yoochun kept his hands moving up and down his back.

Changmin pushed away from the wall. “I’ll do it,” he said, turning his back on the brothers. There was a single packet of ramen waiting to go in the water. Changmin listened to Yoochun’s soft whispers and Yoohwan whimpers and coughs. He did not turn to look at whatever they were doing.

It took a long time for the water to boil. Changmin quickly broke the ramen in half and added it to the pot.

“Hyung.”

It took a moment for Changmin to realize that was meant for him. He paused in stirring and glanced over his shoulder.

Yoochun smiled. “Bring me some water.” He pointed at the far corner. There was a small refrigerator. He opened it and frowned at its sparse contents. Changmin took one of the three bottles of water and opened it before walking the few steps to the chair.

“Thank you.”

Changmin watched a moment longer while Yoochun encouraged Yoohwan to lift his head for a drink of water.

“My father forced us to smoke,” Yoochun said as Yoohwan sipped at the bottle, “when we were really, really young. Yoohwan had his first cigarette before he was five years old. It has really affected Yoohwan’s health even though both of us have quit.”

Changmin didn’t know what to say. He stirred the ramen.

“We don’t drain the water,” Yoochun said, “just add the flavoring. More broth. More to eat.”

Changmin nodded. He had done the same thing in college when he had to save his money. He was going to start buying extra groceries to give to Yoochun. He finished cooking the ramen and sat on the floor and watched Yoochun feed his brother. He coughed constantly, some attacks lasting more than a minute. It sounded painful.

Changmin did not know what to do about this new information, but Yoochun obviously trusted him, showing him where he lived, introducing him to the most important person in his life. Changmin understood that. He would never replace Yoohwan. He was going to end up sharing Yoochun with his little brother.

He did not hate it as much as he hated the thought of other random men touching Micky.

When Yoohwan finished eating, and Changmin noticed that Yoochun only had a few bites of the entire package of ramen, Yoochun did his best to pry Yoohwan away from him, but the boy was latched on, arms around his neck, curled up in the chair, and there was more than one kissed dropped to Yoochun’s neck, or shoulder, or cheek.

Yoochun promised over and over that he would be right back; he was only going to walk Changmin to his car.

Changmin waited patiently. He did not want to leave yet. He wanted his questions answered. But he had no right to be demanding.

It took Yoochun taking Yoohwan to their thin futon, curling up with him for a moment, a kiss to his lips, and more whispered promises before Yoohwan turned around, burying his face into the pillow. He said, “I love you” just before they left the small room.

Yoochun locked the door, and then he smiled up at Changmin and held out his hand, which Changmin did not hesitate to take.

Yoochun led him back through the maze of doors and stairwells, back through the music thudding in the club, back through the throngs of people that seemed to have doubled in size. His car was where he left it and thankfully unscathed. The parking lot was still completely full, but empty of people.

Yoochun leaned against the car, pulled Changmin against him and demanded a kiss with his eyes and pout. Changmin obliged even if his mind was on the tender way he had kissed his brother.

“I really like you,” Yoochun said, pausing in their kiss for words before pressing lips together again. “But you have to understand. Yoohwan is why I sell myself. Yoohwan is why I do anything. I need you to understand that ... if you ... if you want more. If you want to date me. You have to understand how much he means to me. I love my brother, and he likes being touched and kissed. I don’t mind. It’s better than doing it with random men on the street, but ...” He looked away and sighed. “I don’t like it as much as he does. It’s only for him. Just for him, and everything I do is for him.”

“Do you fuck him?”

“No,” Yoochun said, eyes flashing in anger, probably at Changmin’s tone. It had been pretty rude, and quite technically, Yoochun was not Changmin’s boyfriend. Changmin considered him to be, but he hadn’t actually asked yet.

“My father abused us. A lot.” Yoochun sighed and pressed his face to Changmin’s neck. “He did ... he did a lot of things to us. We ran away when I had the chance. We’ve been on our own for more than two years.”

That only answered some of his questions. Changmin nodded, throat too tight and head swimming with too many thoughts to say any words. Or at least to say any words that might hurt Yoochun, scare him away, ruin whatever this was between them.

Yoochun seemed to understand and he kept talking. “I’ve been a prostitute most of my life, Changmin. My father sold me to his friends and whipped me when I wasn’t good enough or if I cried or if I tried to fight. When he started doing the same to Yoohwan, I knew we had to leave. But I was scared. I ... I didn’t think we could leave.”

“What about your mother?”

Yoochun shook his head. “She died ... when I was seven, before Yoohwan was even three.”

“Died?”

With another deep breath, Yoochun said, “Yeah. If you believe the police and my father, she committed suicide, but I’ve always thought that he killed her. She always stood up to him. All I remember of her is yelling and him hitting her.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Changmin whispered, arms tightening around him. “I want to help you.”

“You are,” Yoochun said and kissed his cheek. “You are. I feel normal with you, hyung. I feel ... sane, I guess.”

Changmin leaned away and stared at him in the different colors of neon light. “You’re beautiful, enthralling ...” He smiled. “Intriguing. Taking care of your brother is what I would expect you to do. If you weren’t, then ... well, what kind of hyung is that?”

Yoochun chuckled. “Thank you. I just ... I know it isn’t conventional. Our relationship.”

“Definitely not.”

“But I like you.”

“I like you, too.”

“I better get back to Yoohwan. He worries. About me. But I won’t let him sell himself anymore. I can’t let him do this.”

“You shouldn’t have to either.”

Yoochun nodded. “It won’t be forever.”

“Let me help.”

Yoochun laughed. “Didn’t we just have this conversation? You are helping, hyung. Every day.”

Changmin sighed.

With the smile that Changmin had more than fallen in love with, Yoochun cupped his cheek and pulled him down for a kiss. “Do you work tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Meet me for coffee tomorrow? I have to be to work at the ramen shop at five for dinner. We can spend the day together.”

Ramen shop. It was the first time Yoochun said what his other job was. “How about nine?”

Yoochun nodded. “I’ll text you the address.”

“See you then.”

Yoochun kissed him one more time before pushing Changmin far enough away to slip around him. Changmin watched him walk away, waved when Yoochun turned to smile at him, and then sagged against his car when Yoochun disappeared around the corner. He rubbed his face before climbing into his car and driving home.

\---

Changmin was still half asleep when he staggered into a cafe not too far from his house. He wasn’t used to leaving the house without a morning cup of coffee. Yoochun was already there, dressed in sweats and a hoody against the chill of the morning. He smiled widely upon seeing Changmin and sipped at his coffee.

Changmin waved ... sort of ... and went to the counter to order a large coffee. Yoochun was sitting on a loveseat, and he slid over to let Changmin settle next to him. A bit of space separated them for only a moment before Yoochun slid over, pressing their thighs together.

“Hi,” Yoochun said and laughed at Changmin’s answering grunt. “Sleep well?”

“No.”

Yoochun smiled softly like he knew what had kept Changmin up all night. Considering that it had been Yoochun’s revelations, he probably did know.

“So what do you normally do on your day off?”

“Sleep,” Changmin answered immediately. “My schedule is all over the place. I usually stay in bed and watch dramas all day.”

“Staying in bed sounds good,” Yoochun said and winked at him.

Changmin felt himself blush, but he laughed along with Micky. “What about you?”

“I stay with Yoohwan. He doesn’t go out much, so if he feels okay, we’ll go get ice cream or just sleep. It’s so hard for him to sleep without coughing.”

Changmin nodded, unsure what to say to that.

“His medicine isn’t too expensive,” Yoochun continued, “but we had to decide between medicine and food. I hadn’t ... worked ... for almost a year when I started doing it again. It was hard to go back to that. I refuse to let Yoohwan do it.”

Changmin opened his mouth to tell Yoochun that he wanted to help, but he already had. And Yoochun smiled like he knew exactly what Changmin was going to say.

“What about you?” Yoochun said. “Do you have siblings?”

Changmin nodded. “Two younger sisters. I do not see them much.”

“Why not?”

Changmin sighed. “Can we talk about it later? I just ... this isn’t really the place for it.” He waved his hand around to signify the cafe.

Yoochun smiled. “Should we go take a walk?”

“In a little while.”

Yoochun did not lose his smile. He snuggled deeper into the couch and into Changmin’s side and sipped at his coffee.

Changmin was not sure what to talk about. They never really had problems making conversation before, but it had been Yoochun to start them. And they talked of nonsensical things. Or they talked about Changmin’s job. It was different now, with this knowledge weighing on his heart and mind.

“Where did you learn origami?” Changmin asked.

“One of my father’s friends taught me.”

Changmin inhaled slowly. Once again, the thing they could not talk about.

Yoochun chuckled. “Maybe I should have waited to tell you about Yoohwan.”

Changmin glanced over at him, and his heart fluttered as it usually did seeing Yoochun’s smile.

“It’s just very awkward.”

“I don’t know why.”

“Let’s just get out of here where we can talk about it,” Yoochun said and stood up. “I don’t want you to think you can’t mention it and I don’t want you to think I don’t want to tell you things.”

Changmin looked at him and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” He stood up and followed Yoochun out of the cafe. They walked side by side, sipping their coffee in silence. It was a little better, less awkward than in the cafe, just not by much.

“So did you not sleep well because you were thinking about my brother and me together, or did you not sleep well because you were thinking of what our father did to us?”

Changmin choked on his coffee. Yoochun smirked as he took another sip.

“B-both.”

Yoochun nodded. “And?”

“And what?”

“Did you come to any midnight or early morning conclusions?”

Changmin stopped walking and looked at Yoochun, who had taken a couple of steps before turning to him. Pedestrians weaved around them with muttered curses.

“I showed up this morning, didn’t I?”

Yoochun smiled. “Yes, but why?”

Changmin continued walking, hooking his arm around Yoochun’s shoulders. “The same reason I’ve stuck around since the moment I saw you.”

“Again, why?”

Changmin paused for a moment before whispering, “At first it was because you were beautiful, and you still are, but now it’s because I want to help you.”

Yoochun opened his mouth to say something, probably to protest if the tensing of his body meant anything, but Changmin continued.

“Again, before it was because I wanted to help Micky. I know you do not like what you do. I’ve watched you throw up their come more than one.”

Yoochun stopped in his tracks, again disrupting those around them. “You watched me?”

Changmin winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, um ... you were intriguing.”

The smirk came back. “How long did you watch me until you had the balls to pick me up?”

“Um ...”

Yoochun chuckled and kept walking, weaving his arm around Changmin’s strong bicep. “More than a month?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Three, okay. Three months.”

Yoochun smiled and leaned against him. “Why?”

“You were intriguing,” Changmin said.

Yoochun tilted his head up and smiled with his eyes shut. “You never followed me. You never ...”

“No. I’m not a stalker.”

“Well, sort of.”

“Yes. Sort of. But I’m not.”

Yoochun gripped his arm before tossing his coffee cup into the nearest trashcan. “Thank you,” he said, “for ... I don’t know ... just being a normal spot in my life.”

“I know your brother is important to you. My sisters are important to me.”

“You said you did not see them often.”

Changmin shook his head. “I told my parents I was gay right after my military service. They did not take it well, but my mother wanted me to be successful, so they let me keep my college fund and finish school. I’m not welcome at home. I knew I’d need to save some of my college fund for afterwards, and I have, so I can have my apartment.”

“You could not afford the money you were giving me.”

Changmin glanced down at him, fought the urge to kiss him, and squeezed his hand instead. “Probably not. But it was money well spent.”

“You understand why I stopped taking it?”

“Yes. You understand why I keep trying to give it to you?”

Yoochun smiled. “Yes. Can we go back to your place now? I really want to have your dick in my mouth.”

Changmin almost spit out a mouthful of coffee.


	5. Courage

Changmin knew what Yoochun implied by dragging him back to his apartment, but Changmin wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to be compared to all the other men that had fucked this boy. He wanted to stand out. He also knew that Yoochun would roll his eyes if he said his thoughts outloud.

Instead of going right to the bedroom, Changmin detoured to the kitchen. He was hungry, he hadn’t eaten before going to meet Yoochun.

“Are you hungry?” Changmin asked. He dared a glance over his shoulder just in time to see Yoochun sit in his armchair. “Do you want some kimchi jjigae? A friend of mine brought over some yesterday.”

“Sure. Can I have some water?”

Changmin nodded. He put the jjigae into the microwave before bringing Yoochun a bottle of water.

Yoochun gripped his wrist. Changmin met his eyes. “What?”

“Kiss me?”

Changmin swallowed, leaned over him and pressed their lips together. He was shaking. Yoochun was calm, and Changmin had a moment to realize that this night was going to go how he wanted it. Yoochun wanted him. Changmin only had to take him. If he had the courage.

“You’re gorgeous,” Yoochun whispered.

Changmin felt himself blush, but he was saved from more embarrassment by the microwave beeping.

Yoochun did not say anything else while they ate lunch. He refused to listen to Changmin spluttering about the dishes and shoved him away to his bed.

“Take a nap, hyung. God, you look like you’re going to fall over.”

Changmin allowed himself to be ordered around; he went to his room and fell onto his futon with his feet still on the floor. He thought about Yoochun. Not that he hadn’t been thinking of anything but Yoochun for days, and all of last night. He wanted and needed to help him. He wanted and needed Yoochun by his side.

After yesterday, he knew that Yoochun came with Yoohwan. That did not matter. Not to Changmin. Yoohwan was important to Yoochun and therefore, important to Changmin. He did not know what to do.

The futon shifted, and Changmin turned his head just in time to accept a kiss from Yoochun.

“Come and live with me,” Changmin muttered.

Yoochun smiled widely at him and said nothing. He crawled over his lap, knees at the very edge of the futon, hands on either side of Changmin’s head. He leaned down for another kiss and then another. He lifted his hands, settling them on Yoochun’s bony hips. He was too skinny.

Yoochun pulled away from his lips, smiled and then climbed over Changmin, up on the piles of pillows, putting his half-hard dick right in Changmin’s face for a moment.

Changmin moaned. He stayed where he was until Yoochun ran fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. “Hey, come up here.”

Changmin sighed and nodded. He stayed on his back as he shifted up the mattress, stopping when his head hit the pillows. Yoochun curled up into his side and scattered kisses on his chin and neck. His fingers walked up and down his chest. Changmin shut his eyes and played with the long ends of Yoochun’s hair.

“You don’t need to be so reluctant,” Yoochun said and licked his earlobe. “I want you, Changmin-hyung. It’s been a really long time since I’ve had sex because I wanted to.”

Changmin turned his head. Yoochun kissed him.

Changmin tangled his hand in his hair and opened his mouth, letting Yoochun lead the kiss, the touch of tongues. He did not protest when Yoochun climbed over his lap again. He did not protest when Yoochun tugged at his shirt, and he lifted himself up so Yoochun could pull it over his head. He did not protest when Yoochun’s mouth moved down his chest, tongue and teeth and lips against nipples and skin.

Yoochun paused only long enough to pull his shirt off and smile down at Changmin. “Touch me.”

Changmin smiled and settled his hands above the band of Yoochun’s pants. His fingers rubbed back and forth, and he watched as a red flush spread over Yoochun’s skin. He sat flush against Changmin’s thighs, leaning with his hands at Changmin’s knees, head tilted back, and he just breathed. Changmin moved his fingers up his body, over his ribs and to his nipples. Yoochun shivered at the light touch, his own fingers gripping Changmin’s knees. Changmin pinched his nipples, and Yoochun’s hips moved, slow swirls accompanied by soft gasps.

“Please, hyung,” he said, voice deeper. “Please.”

Changmin slid his hands down Yoochun’s front, to his pants. He pulled at the band and slipped the material over his hips. Swallowing roughly, he touched hipbones with his thumbs, rubbing against the dips. His dick twitched and then grew. Changmin fondled Yoochun’s balls, sliding his other hand up his stomach, back to his nipple.

Yoochun smiled and leaned forward, palms right on Changmin’s nipples. He demanded a deep kiss that Changmin gave him. His hands moved, one to Yoochun’s dick, stroking slowly. The other down the back of the pants, pushing them over his ass. Yoochun smiled against his lips. With shaking hands, Changmin kneaded his ass and upper thighs. Yoochun whimpered with each squeeze and pushing his ass back into his hands.

He pulled Yoochun against his body and rolled them over. Yoochun went with a smile, tugging at Changmin’s neck for another kiss. Changmin smiled, pecked his lips, but pulled away to finish tugging off Yoochun’s clothes. He lay on his side for more kisses and let his hand run up and down Yoochun’s naked skin. Yoochun’s arms wrapped around him, under his arm, around his back.

Changmin hated the scars under his fingertips. He hated the pain and abuse this boy had suffered. He was determined to show him love. Give him pleasure. He started with skin and with scars, leaving wet lines down his skin, kisses where his skin twitched the most, light bites where he gasped. He internally smiled when Yoochun moaned after Changmin sucked his cock into his mouth. He wondered how many blowjobs Yoochun received.

He curled his fingers lightly around his sac and sucked slowly, up and down with his tongue swirling where it could. He used his grip on his balls to keep Yoochun’s erection straight and tugged at Yoochun’s knee with his other hand. Yoochun lifted it, shaking with whimpers. He tugged even harder at Changmin’s hair. His balls tightened, his body trembled, and Changmin gagged on a sudden mouthful of come. He pulled away with a cough, and a few more weak strings of come spurt from the tip of his dick.

“S-ssorry,” Yoochun gasped.

Changmin smiled up at him and swallowed his erection back into his throat. Yoochun whimpered, tugging at his hair. Changmin sucked just a few more times and then let him go. He pressed kisses and licked up the come on his way to Yoochun’s lips.

“Sorry,” Yoochun said again between kisses. “Been ... been a long time.”

Which did not make sense to Changmin.

Yoochun saw his confusion and laughed. “Really, hyung? You think I come when men are fucking me?”

Changmin winced. He did not like being reminded of Yoochun’s profession when they were naked. Well, Yoochun was naked. Changmin still had his pants on and his trapped cock really really hated that.

Yoochun chuckled at his scowl. “Sorry. No mention of anyone else.” He gripped the top of Changmin’s pants and unbuttoned them. “Get naked.”

Changmin smiled. “Yes, sir.” His chest tightened at the silly, breathless laugh that burst from Yoochun’s lips. Changmin rolled away and quickly. He finished undoing his pants and pushed them and his boxers off his body. He moved to his dresser and grabbed lube and condoms from the drawer. He was determined to make this perfect for Yoochun.

But his hands would not stop shaking.

He went back to the bed, back over Yoochun, propped up, hovering, enough to kiss and touch. And smile. Yoochun never stopped smiling.

He pushed at Changmin’s shoulders and pulled his legs up at the same time. “Come on. Please.”

Changmin nodded, barely breathing. He shifted back, kneeling. “How ... how do you--”

“Just like this,” Yoochun interrupted and gripped behind his knees. He was beautiful, skin pale in the afternoon light that streamed through the cheap blinds on Changmin’s window. With his legs lifted and spread, the scars on his skin stood out even more. But it was his body, his clenching entrance, that held Changmin’s gaze captive for a few long seconds.

Changmin licked his lips and nodded. He shimmied closer and reached for the lube. He had to take a few deep breaths to keep his fingers from shaking so he could open the lube. It was cold on his skin. He poured too much, moved closer again, and pressed his fingers to Yoochun’s body. They slipped over the curve before brushing against his furled entrance.

Yoochun sighed, eyes shutting.

Changmin pressed a finger inside him. “Tell me ...”

Yoochun smiled. “It’s fine. Feels ... good. Like ... different. Good.”

Determined, Changmin spun his hand before pulling the finger out to press it back in. He watched Yoochun’s face just because the smile never left. His eyes stayed shut. His fingernails dug into his knees.

Changmin frowned at that and scooted closer. He pulled his finger free and unclenched his hands, tugged them up to his lips to kiss Yoochun’s fingertips. He ignored Yoochun’s blush because he had one of his own flushing down his neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” Changmin gasped and fell over him, their hands pressing into the pillows above Yoochun’s head. Yoochun’s legs wrapped around him. Their cocks brushed and Changmin moaned, curling his hips to slide his erection against Yoochun’s skin. They kissed, and it cleared Changmin’s mind, brought him back to what he was doing. He released one hand, slid it down Yoochun’s side. He cupped his ass, hitching his hips a little higher. He hated that he had to pull away from Yoochun a little though his legs around him kept Changmin close enough to kiss. He blindly felt for that crinkled opening and pressed two fingers into him.

Yoochun moaned into his mouth. His free hand went to Changmin’s shoulder and fingernails dug into Changmin’s skin, instead of his own. Changmin did not mind.

He pumped his fingers and kissed Yoochun in the same rhythm, swirling and scissoring his fingers. Yoochun vocal whimpers of pleasure and the grip on his fingers had Changmin’s head spinning. He was so overwhelmed, by Yoochun, by the feelings tightening his chest, by the lust throbbing through his erection.

He pressed in a third finger. Yoochun tightened up on it with a sharp inhale, but before Changmin could do more than frown in concern, Yoochun smiled again and relaxed. His eyes finally opened and he made kissy faces at Changmin.

Changmin laughed and leaned down to kiss him.

“You ready to shove your dick inside me yet?” Yoochun asked and tangled both hands in Changmin’s hair. He rolled his hips and arched his back, fucking himself on Changmin’s fingers.

“Fuck.”

Yoochun laughed. “That is a yes. Come on. Fuck me.”

Changmin pressed a firm kiss to his lips before pulling away. He removed his fingers, lifted his hand and stroked Yoochun’s cock. He wasn’t hard, yet, but Changmin did not expect him to be. He was okay with that. For now.

He tore open a condom packet with his teeth. His hands shook in anticipation, and his skin flushed from Yoochun’s expectant (and highly amused) gaze. It took a second try to get the condom on and then Changmin swiped his erection over Yoochun’s entrance before pushing slowly, one hand on Yoochun’s bent knee for balance.

Yoochun moaned, eyes shutting, mouth open. His hands went above his head and he gripped the pillow.

Changmin pulled out, fumbled with the lube again, and dumped more right on Yoochun’s body, watching it drip down his cleft for a moment. Yoochun bumped him with his knee and smiled. “Come on. It’s fine.”

Changmin didn’t really think it was fine. Not yet. Not with Yoochun ... just lying there. Then again, if he wasn’t, then sex wouldn’t really be possible.

Changmin curled his slick hand around Yoochun’s cock and balls again, just to hear him moan. The skin was sensitive. There was that. Or Yoochun was faking it. Changmin couldn’t tell. He stopped fondling him just long enough to press his dick back inside. Yoochun hissed and relaxed, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Changmin wanted to shut his eyes from the grip around his cock, but he couldn’t. He wanted to keep Yoochun in his sight. Yoochun’s mouth and eyes and skin. He licked his lower lip and Changmin wanted a kiss. He pumped his hand while slowly driving into him, hips swirling, retreating, pushing. It was much slower than anything Changmin had experienced in the past. Which wasn’t good for his longevity. He stopped, pressed flush against Yoochun, and just waited, deep breaths. The hand on Yoochun’s cock did not stop. Each tug had Yoochun tightening around him, and growing harder in his hand.

Changmin could live with that. He leaned over him, other hand by his head and kissed him. His hips jerked, his thrusts lengthening. He moaned into Yoochun’s mouth, whimpered when hand went to his hair, pulling with each deep kiss. His hand on Yoochun’s cock stopped moving. He just couldn’t, not with pleasure swimming through him, jolting him toward too quick of a release. And Yoochun whimpered in encouragement, sucking at his lips when Changmin no longer kissed him properly.

Yoochun’s legs moved suddenly, lifting higher, and Changmin shifted his knees back, thrusts going slightly erratic. It felt so good, so amazing, to be here, with Yoochun beneath. To feel Yoochun’s erection against his side, touch him, hold him.

_Love him._

Changmin whimpered at that thought, chest again tightening, but so did the rest of his body, and he bit his lip hard to keep from saying _I love you_ as he came. His elbows collapsed, his vision went gray, but not enough that he didn’t find Yoochun’s lips again, muffling his moans in a sloppy kiss as his body shook through its release.

Fingers danced up and down his shoulders. Legs slid over his sides. Yoochun hummed and whispered nothingness through the haze of recovery.

When Changmin was coherent again, or mostly coherent, he went right back to Yoochun’s lips. And when his body was his to control, Changmin lifted his hips, slipped from Yoochun’s body with a whimper, and rolled onto his back, his arm flung over Yoochun’s chest.

Yoochun straightened his legs and propped up on his elbow, smiling down at Changmin. His fingers did not stop their dance on his skin until he got to Changmin’s cock. He took off the condom and tied the end. And then he curled his fingers around the shaft and squeezed.

Changmin moaned. He let Yoochun stroke him a few times before pushing Yoochun to his back and sliding his lips down Yoochun’s body. Yoochun deserved more pleasure than that, deserved all the pleasure Changmin was able to give him, even if it was with his mouth and fingers.


	6. Safety

Changmin watched Yoochun sleep. He felt only slightly less stalker-ish with Yoochun in his bed, sleeping off the pleasure-induced exhaustion that came from multiple orgasms. He trailed his fingertips up Yoochun’s stomach, to his ribs and watched his eyes flutter open. He needed to wake up and get to his job.

“Creeper,” Yoochun said, voice deep and rough with sleep. It made Changmin think dirty thoughts. Not that he had stopped.

Changmin smiled. “Pretty things should be looked at.”

Yoochun rolled his eyes and then stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “What time is it?”

“After two.”

“Which means I need to go.”

“Yep. Come back tomorrow?”

Yoochun pondered him with narrowed eyes.

“Bring Yoohwan. I have to work at two in the afternoon, but I’ll make us breakfast.”

“I’ll see if he wants to.”

“Don’t go out tonight,” Changmin all but begged. “Please.”

Yoochun smiled. He put his arms around Changmin’s shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss, one that was well on its way to leading to another round of fucking had Yoochun not pulled away suddenly. He rolled to the side and then stood up, leaving Changmin breathless and turned on, and without a reassurance that Yoochun would not go sell himself.

Changmin had no right to ask or plead. Yoochun needed the money. Changmin was only being selfish.

After a couple minutes, Yoochun returned to the bedroom, still naked, but with his hair pulled away from his face. He fell back into bed and crawled over to Changmin for a few more short kisses.

“Drive me home?”

Changmin smiled. “Okay. Naked?”

Yoochun laughed. “I thought you didn’t want other men to see me naked today.”

Changmin made a face. “Right. Let’s get dressed.”

\---

Yoochun did not show up for breakfast. Changmin waited until noon before finally eating himself. He had to go to work.

He went to work, staring down at his phone every few minutes for a text from Yoochun. He hoped he was okay. He thought of sending one and didn’t. He did not want to wait for a reply.

There were problems with editing some of the pre-taped shows. Changmin ended up staying much longer than he thought. He staggered home, drained and depressed. The depression settled deep when he entered his apartment and it was empty.

With a sigh, he had soju for dinner and drank himself to sleep.

\---

Two days later, Changmin walked through his front door and dropped his grocery bag in shock.

Yoohwan sat on his couch, looking back at him expectantly. He had a black eye and a split lip, and his shirt was torn. He flushed under Changmin’s gaze and turned away.

“Yoochun-hyung said I could stay here,” he whispered.

Changmin licked his lips to get moisture back into his mouth, and he cleared his throat. “Yes. Of course. I ... sorry. You just surprised me. Do you need anything?”

“Hyung got me some medicine. But I’m ... I ... He said to eat, but I didn’t ... I don’t want ...”

“Yeah. Here.” Changmin picked up his bag and went to his kitchen. “I just bought a lot of vegetables. We can make stir fry if you want.”

“O-okay.” He coughed a few times. Changmin took out a bottle of water and set it on the countertop. Changmin did not know what to say after that. Yoohwan said nothing. The silence was broken by the sizzle of vegetables and tofu, and by Yoohwan coughing every now and then

It wasn’t until the food was done that Changmin cleared his throat and asked, “So what happened?”

Yoohwan shrugged a shoulder, the one bared from his ripped shirt. “Oh, um ... he kind of caught me.”

Changmin stared at him. “Caught you?”

“Yeah.”

“Doing what?”

Yoohwan blushed and stammered. “S-sucking ... suck-sucking off our landlord.”

That Changmin was not expecting. “What?”

Yoohwan rubbed his arms. “Yeah, he um ... I wasn’t expecting him to come home before he had to work the other day and ... I’ve been ... the landlord lets me suck him off to pay for rent, and Yoochun-hyung did not know that because he’s so protective of me and he doesn't have to be. I know he’s selling himself for my medicine, and I just ... wanted ... wanted to help. He doesn’t have to do it by himself.”

Yoohwan’s chest hitched and he put his head on the table. His back shook with coughs.

“Yoochun beat you up?”

“No!” Yoohwan shouted and sat up straight. That was bad for the cough though and he curled over, coughing again. He took a few drinks of water until it passed. “We fought, yes, but just yelling. Or he was yelling. I know he doesn’t want me to do that, but I don’t mind. I just ... I told him I wouldn’t anymore. I promised him. So today ... today, the landlord took his payment with his fists. Hyung told me to come here when he found me. I don’t know what he’s doing now.”

Changmin took out his phone and texted Yoochun’s number. _Are you okay? Yoohwan is okay. What’s going on?_

There was no reply.

Yoohwan’s body shook with another coughing fit.

“You can shower,” Changmin said. “And sleep. Whatever you want.”

Yoohwan smiled, but did not look at him. “Thanks.”

“For the record. Your brother is right. You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“Neither should he.”

Changmin smiled. “No. Neither of you should.”

“He won’t let me work either. I could find a job. Maybe.”

Changmin nodded. “Maybe. You should. Maybe it will help you get stronger, strengthen your lungs.”

Yoohwan nodded and stood up. “Thank you, Changmin-shi. For ... for helping.”

“You’re welcome. I wish I could help more.”

Changmin watched him disappear into the bathroom. He covered his face with his hands and exhaled. He sent Yoochun another text. _I’m worried about you. Please call me._

But Yoochun did not call.

Yoohwan slept on the futon. Changmin slept on the couch and listened to him cough and whimper in his sleep.

\---

Two days later, Changmin had enough of the silence. He worried that something was wrong with Yoochun. He worried that he had been hurt. But he also understood. Yoochun was blaming himself. If he was uninjured, then he was hiding. He had taken care of his brother by sending him to Changmin, and now, the little ~~adorable gorgeous breathtaking~~ brat thought that it’d be better if he was gone. It was his fault that Yoohwan felt he needed to pay their landlord with a blow job.

Changmin pulled on a hoody and slipped on his shoes.

“Where are you going, hyung?” Yoohwan whispered.

“To find your brother.”

Yoohwan bit his lip. “You think he’s okay?”

Changmin looked up and smiled at him. “How stubborn is your brother?”

Yoohwan’s lips twitched and then blossomed into a full blown smile. “Very.”

“He’s okay. I happen to know where he works, so I am going to go find him.”

Yoohwan stood up and walked over to him. Changmin stayed tense until Yoohwan hugged him around his middle. Changmin smiled and hugged him back and even pressed a kiss to his soft hair.

“What if you can’t find him?” Yoohwan asked and pulled away enough to look up at him.

Changmin shrugged. “I’ll keep looking.” He ran his hands through Yoohwan’s hair, and Yoohwan smiled, head tilted back. He licked his lips, and swallowed. The column of his neck shifted, and the skin twitched when Changmin trailed his fingers down to his collarbone. The boy was incredibly pretty, just like his brother.

Changmin cleared his throat and attempted to step back, but Yoohwan tightened the grip of his arms, and Changmin did not want to hurt him. Or kiss him. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back.

“Changmin hyung?”

Changmin grunted to show he was listening.

One arm unlatched from his waist, but went into his hair, and Changmin wasn’t expecting it, or the sudden pull. Or the sudden brush of lips on his. He stood frozen, eyes finally open and wide in shock, as Yoohwan pressed their lips together. It was short and forever, and then Yoohwan pulled away with a smirk.

“Don’t tell my brother.” He let go of Changmin and moved away from him.

Changmin retreated, out the door, leaning on it, breathing deeply. He understood Yoohwan too. His brother treated him as something fragile, something about to be broken, but Yoohwan already was broken, just as much as Yoochun, and both of them needed to know that neither was irreparable.

Yoochun needed to stop being a selfish man disguised as protecting his brother. His brother needed to be honest.

Changmin’s lips tingled.

He pushed away from the door and ran down the flights of stairs and out the door to his car. The moonlight burned through a thin layer of clouds and smog. It was almost eleven. Changmin hoped to find Yoochun underneath Micky’s light before someone else picked him up for the night.

\---

Micky was not at his light.

Changmin sat down the block and watched the regulars circle. It had been a very long time since he’d last staked out Micky’s light.

Yoochun usually came over to his apartment. Whenever he wanted.

Changmin propped his feet up on the dash and waited, watching as those on feet neared but did not come into the light. As the hours passed, some gave up. But a few, like Changmin persisted. It was unlike Micky to be with a customer this long. Changmin did not think that Micky was coming.

He waited until almost two in the morning before driving away. He’d only been to the brothers’ small apartment once, but he did remember the way to the small parking lot. He got turned around in the bars, drunkards, and hookers, but remembered the bar down a few steps. As soon as he walked through the door, he knew he was in the right place.

The lights were dim, the dancers wild. It all made Changmin’s head spin. He tried to move through the bar, but found himself pushed against the walls, knocked into tables, and twisted onto the dance floor by nameless hands and bodies. There were four doors, and Changmin had no idea which one Yoochun had led him through. With a resigned but determined growl, he went back to the bar.

It was busy, and he ordered bottle of soju, just to keep up pretenses. When the bartender sat it in front of him, he leaned over and shouted over the music, “I’m looking for Micky.”

The man’s eyes twitched in recognition, but he shook his head. “No one works here by that name.”

“Then Yoochun. I need to find Park Yoochun.”

The man crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“I haven’t seen him in a few days, and his brother and I are worried.”

That caught the man’s attention.

Changmin smiled and drank his soju. The bartender walked down the bar to get more orders. Changmin could be patient.

Almost a half hour (and another bottle of soju later), the man came up to him and said, “Yoohwan is okay?”

Changmin’s smile widened. “Yeah. He’s been staying with me while his brother plays missing. We haven’t heard from him in five days.”

The man frowned and then nodded, to himself. He pointed. “That door, the one with the orange paint strip.”

Changmin turned and looked. He nodded his thanks and left the man a huge tip. He downed the rest of his soju on the way to the door. Leaving the bar, Changmin entered a familiar stairway. He walked up the stairs, onto the roof, through the corner door. The soju made his head spin a bit. He remembered which door was Yoochun’s.

The knob turned, unlocked.

Worried, Changmin opened the door completely, and almost wished he hadn’t.

Yoochun was there, but it was Micky that looked over at him. Micky that had another man’s cock down his throat. Micky that was naked with bruised skin and an empty look in his eyes.

“Excuse you,” the man said, fingers tightening in Micky’s hair.

Changmin finally looked over at him, away from Micky. He smiled and crossed his arms. “Sorry. I have an appointment.”

The man snorted. “With this trash?”

“Trash good enough to suck your dick?”

“Get out before I throw you out.”

“Naw. I’ll watch.”

“Get out.”

Changmin leaned against the doorjamb. “Make me.”

Micky whimpered in protest.

The man pulled away, cock slipping from his lips. He backhanded Micky before he could do anything else and then turned on Changmin. He yanked his sweatpants over his cock.

Changmin took a few deep breaths and relaxed his stance. The man was older, portly, not in shape at all. There was a wildness in his eyes that said he was high on something.

“You fuck with me?” the man slurred. “You fucked.”

Changmin wasn’t sure what that meant, but he did not have time to decipher it. The man charged at him in the small space, and it took only a few punches, a few kicks, and a well placed shove into the wall before the man moaned and sank to the floor, retching.

Changmin left him there and moved over to Micky.

Micky was shaking, and his eyes were dilated, spinning. Drugged. Again. There were fresh welts on his back, bruises on his ribs and face.

“Come home,” Changmin whispered and touched him.

Micky jerked back with a whimper.

Movement in the other corner had Changmin glancing up. The man was on his feet, though not steadily. Blood poured from his nose. Changmin hoped he broke it.

“He’s a whore,” the man said.

Changmin nodded. “True. But he’s my whore. He no longer belongs to you.”

The man spit blood at him and then staggered out the door.

“Chang ... Changmin.”

He looked back down at Yoochun. “Hi, love. You okay?”

Yoochun shook his head. “Hurts.”

“I know.” He didn’t want to leave Yoochun alone, but he also didn’t want to leave all of Yoochun’s things there. Yoohwan had brought only two bags with him, and one of those bags was mostly full of cash.

Savings. Yoohwan had said. For something. To get a real place. He’d saved the rent money and let that man fuck his face instead. Smart, but not something Changmin wanted either brother to do.

“Shit.”

Changmin spun around and saw the bartender leaning against the wall, rubbing his face with his hands. “Sorry. I saw Hyungsaeng stagger bloodied through the bar and came to check on you.”

“Can you help me?” Changmin asked.

The man took a deep breath and nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

Changmin held onto Yoochun while the other followed his directions of packing up the clothes and shoes into garbage bags. He wrapped Yoochun in a blanket and did his best to steady him on his back, piggyback style. Yoochun whimpered, reaching out a hand. Changmin saw a stuffed toy on the ratty futon. The bartender picked it up. A teddy bear with one eye missing. He handed it to Yoochun who pulled it to his face.

Changmin led the way, walking carefully down the stairs, through the club. The bartender followed with a full bag in each hand. It was harder to meander through the early-morning rush of drunk crowds. He moved slow, not wanting to put Yoochun down to rest.

When they got to the quiet of the parking lot, Changmin sighed in relief.

“Thank you so much,” Changmin said to the bartender as he threw the bags into the trunk of Changmin’s car.

“No, just ... take care of him,” the man said and touched the back of Yoochun’s head. “He’s so stubborn.”

Changmin smiled. “I know.”

The bartender pressed a kiss to Yoochun’s neck, the only skin he could see and then turned and left, back the way he had come.

Changmin settled Yoochun in the passenger seat. He curled up with the toy, covered in the blanket, and cried.

Changmin wanted to hold and comfort him, but he needed to get Yoochun home first.


	7. Work

Changmin carried Yoochun into his apartment. Yoohwan was pacing a track in his floor, but stopped and shouted his brother’s name.

Yoochun’s head lolled to the side and he smiled, loopily.

Yoohwan stopped just short of him, and Changmin settled Yoochun onto his couch. Yoohwan kneeled on the floor and moved sweaty hair off Yoochun’s forehead. “Hyung.”

“Get him some water,” Changmin said. “I’ll be right back.”

Changmin went back to the car and grabbed the bags of the boys’ possessions.

“Sorry,” Yoohwan said right away. “He threw up on your floor.”

The smell invaded Changmin’s nose and he gagged. “That’s ... good ... gross. Yeah.”

Yoohwan scrambled to his feet. “I’ll clean it up. I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Changmin nodded. He set the bags down on the floor and went back to the couch. He scooped Yoochun up in his arms, huffing at the effort, and took him into the bathroom. Stripping took a few minutes because Changmin had to keep Yoochun upright and take off their clothes at the same time. He swooned and moaned and dry heaved before Changmin could get him into the shower.

The water was almost cold, but Yoochun’s skin and body were too warm. He sagged into it, and Changmin climbed into the shower to hold him up and rinse him clean. He was careful of the new cuts and welts on his back.

“Stupid, so very stupid,” Changmin muttered.

“He always has been.”

Changmin jerked his head up and watched with wide eyes as Yoohwan stripped. He looked down and then looked away, flushing and actually using Yoochun as a shield to his own body.

“You hold him up, hyung. I’ll clean him.”

Changmin did not trust himself to open his mouth so he nodded. He held up Yoochun mostly unresponsive body while his brother cleaned him off. Yoohwan was quick, and after their shower held Yoochun up while Changmin dried him off. He did not put on clothes as he led the way back to Changmin’s bedroom.

Flushing, Changmin put on sweatpants because even if Yoohwan was worried about his brother, he kept looking at Changmin’s dick. And smiling.

Between the two of them, they lowered Yoochun onto the futon and covered him up. Without saying anything else, Yoohwan slid in next to him, fingers and lips dancing up and down the skin of his shoulders and neck.

Changmin watched as Yoochun rolled toward his brother’s warmth, still awake, but barely, and he smiled and lifted an arm to settle against Yoohwan’s side. It seemed the only effort he could manage. And a kiss to his brother’s lips.

Changmin turned away, blaming the jealousy, anger, and irritation on being so very tired. It had been a long day. He collapsed onto the couch just as the sky outside his window lightened with dawn.

\---

Changmin woke up to soft touches on his back and side. He moaned and rolled over, burying his face into the back of his couch. The soft hand moved over his back, fingers sweeping back and forth down his spine. The touch felt amazing and was such a pleasant way to wake up. But it was wrong. The fingers not quite long or rough enough.

Changmin sat up with a mild curse, blinking his eyes to clear out the sleep-muddled fog. He glanced at the floor where Yoohwan was kneeling.

“Fuck,” Changmin muttered.

“Okay.”

Changmin raised an eyebrow.

“Yoochun’s in the shower. We have about five minutes. I won’t need that long.”

Changmin sagged back into the couch. Yoohwan touched his knee and Changmin jerked away, standing up too quickly.

“Stop it,” he muttered.

Yoohwan smiled. “Fine, fine.”

Changmin went to the bathroom and pissed. He did not flush the toilet because that would turn Yoochun’s shower ice cold. He pondered the closed curtain and with a sigh, slipped the sweats off and then climbed into the shower with Yoochun.

Yoochun turned his back without saying anything.

Changmin surged on and wrapped his arms around Yoochun’s waist. “Safer here,” he muttered into the wet skin of his neck.

“Huh?”

“Your brother has wandering hands. It’s safer here with you.”

Yoochun chuckled. “Yeah, he does.” Yoochun took Changmin’s arm and held his hand under the spray of water. It stung in the cuts on his knuckles from punching that man. “I thought ... it was a dream. I had lots of dreams.”

“I have lots of dreams, too.”

Yoochun finally turned in his arms and his eyes shut with a quiet sigh. Changmin tilted his head back and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“You did not have to come and get me.”

Changmin replied with a smile, “Yes, I did.”

“Yoohwan says you brought all our stuff.”

“Yeah, after punching out who I assume was your landlord I didn’t think he’d let you back.”

Yoochun huffed and turned his head, pressing his cheek to Changmin’s shoulder. “I ... thank you for letting Yoohwan stay. He ... he said he was going to have Yoohwan taken ... put in with a pimp. I ... I did it ... he wanted payment, to keep the gang away. I had to. I need to take care of my brother.”

Changmin ran his hand over the back of Yoochun’s wet hair. “And who is going to take care of you?”

He stiffened. “We don’t need you,” he said quietly.

That hurt, but Changmin understood. He hugged Yoochun tightly. “I know,” he said finally. “You have proven that you only need each other. But if you let me, if you let yourself, take this chance. Take it because it will make life easier for you. You won’t have to fight as hard. You can fight, but why should you if you don’t have to?”

There was another long silence. “We’ll stay for a little while.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Yoochun pulled his head away and smiled up at him. “Thanks, hyung. I still think you’re a creepy stalker.”

Changmin laughed. “Maybe a little.”

They ended their shower, dried off and then dressed in the bedroom. Changmin went right to the coffee pot. Yoochun went right to his brother. He smacked the back of his head.

“Keep your hands off my boyfriend.”

Yoohwan cursed at him and then smiled. “Just my hands?”

“And your lips, and your tongue, and your teeth, and your feet, and your skin, and your hair--”

Yoohwan laughed. “Okay, okay. Fine.”

“And your cock,” Yoochun said pointedly.

“Damn. I was hoping you’d forget that one.”

Yoochun stuck his tongue out and then sagged onto the couch next to Yoohwan, who slid over and hugged him. Yoohwan met Changmin’s eyes and he winked.

\---

It was weird to have people in his apartment. He kept forgetting over the next two weeks. He’d walk out into the kitchen in just boxers or sometimes naked depending on the hour of the night, and forget about Yoohwan until the younger boy whistled at him. Changmin blamed his work schedule. He’d always lived in this half-fog of work and sleep, but now it included brothers, kisses, touches, and blow jobs sometimes.

The minor embarrassment was worth it to see both brothers smile more, laugh more, and eat more, and to hear Yoohwan cough less.

Changmin had woken up alone at one in the morning for a shift that started at three, but a quick glance in the living room showed both brothers curled together. Only Yoochun was awake. Changmin smiled at him before going into the kitchen.

“He had a coughing fit.”

“Take him to our bed,” Changmin said. “I’m not going back into it until I get off work.”

Yoochun smiled. “I will when he wakes up. I don’t want him to wake up yet. He just fell back to sleep.”

“Do you need some money for his medicine?”

Yoochun’s eyes narrowed, and he looked away.

Changmin sighed. “If you need money, just ask me, okay?”

“You know I won’t.”

“I know.” Changmin bit his lip and did not ask if Yoochun was still selling himself. Yoochun knew his work schedule. He could leave after Changmin and come home right before Changmin, and tell Yoohwan not to say anything. Yoohwan wouldn’t because the brothers were loyal to each other first.

But ...

A relationship was based on trust and communication. Changmin knew that, and so he did not pry or demand or ask. He did not accuse or manipulate. He drank his coffee and got ready for work.

\---

Changmin wanted to have sex with Yoochun. He wanted to every single day. But everyday, something managed to get in their way.

Yoohwan.

If he knew what they were doing or even suspected, he would cheer through the walls, or wolf whistle or ask to join, and that was the quickest way to kill his boner. He was persistent and annoying. Changmin wasn’t sure how much of it was jealousy and how much of it was just Yoohwan being a fourteen-year-old brat.

But Yoochun was also hesitant. He woke Changmin up most mornings with lips on his cock, but other than that, nothing. Changmin did not understand. He needed to talk to Yoochun, but not with Yoohwan.

Yoohwan needed to get out of the house. He remembered their conversation about Yoohwan wanting to work, and luckily, he knew a place.

He’d call Jaejoong and see if he had a position available for Yoohwan a couple days a week. His relationship with Jaejoong had started with Changmin searching for an apartment, wandering into a cafe, and ending up in a back room with Jaejoong’s ankles around his shoulders and his nail marks down his back. He never did call in that favor that Jaejoong had gasped into his ear along with an apology for drawing blood.

\---

“You want me to hire a fourteen-year-old?”

“He’s almost fifteen,” Changmin said. “At least meet him. And only for a couple days a week. He’s sick, but he needs to get out of the house. I’m going crazy.”

“What? You are not making sense.”

“I’m working a weird shift today. I’ll stop by after work and explain.”

Jaejoong huffed into the phone. “Fine, dongsaeng, but this is all sorts of crazy.”

Changmin smiled. “I know.”

\---

Changmin showed up at a little after ten a.m. He’d just missed the morning rush and was lucky enough to be at Jaejoong’s cafe right before lunch. The place was always packed because of the good coffee, the good food, and the pretty, pretty owner who flirted with everyone that walked through his door.

Jaejoong saw him and floated over to him. His hair was blond again, cut in waves around his face, and his body was wrapped in jeans too tight and an obscene, clingy blue shirt that dipped between his pec muscles. He smiled his pretty smile, red just touching his pale cheeks. He hurried from behind the counter, shouted at one of his workers to make Changmin a white chocolate mint latte and then wrapped his arms around Changmin’s neck and hugged him.

Changmin froze for a moment but hugged him back, his arms going around Jaejoong’s tiny waste.

“You look amazing,” Jaejoong said, pulling away, “even half dead off a long shift from work. Why did I ever stop wrapping my legs around your neck?”

Changmin smiled. “Something prettier than me walked by.”

Jaejoong smirked. “Not much out there that is prettier than you.”

Changmin rolled his eyes and did not protest when Jaejoong hooked his arm through Changmin’s and dragged him to the back room. After the first time they had fucked in Jaejoong’s office, Changmin had returned for more just a few times. Jaejoong was addicting.

They talked about Changmin’s job until the employee brought Changmin his coffee and Jaejoong asked “Darling Minho” if he would please close the door.

“So what do you need?” Jaejoong asked.

\---

“You what?” Yoochun demanded.

“I got Yoohwan a job.”

“He can’t work.”

“Hyung--”

Yoochun held out a hand to silence his brother. “He is sick. He needs--”

“Fuck you!” Yoohwan shouted.

Yoochun winced but did not even look at him. “He cannot work.”

Changmin smiled. “Yes, he can. Jaejoong is going to let him do clean up, in the back of the cafe, two days a week to start. It will get him out of the house and give him some of his own money to spend.”

“Where?” Yoohwan asked.

Changmin turned to him and said, “Kiss B Cafe. My friend Jaejoong owns it. He was a bit reluctant to hire someone so young, but I told him that it was only for a few days a week, and just to see if you could do it. I think you can do it.”

“I can.”

“No,” Yoochun said, spinning to face his brother. “You can’t. You’re--”

“I am not sick!” Yoohwan said, but the outburst caused him to curl up on himself and cough.

Yoochun crossed his arms and waited until the spasm passed.

Changmin shook his head. “It took a lot of persuading for Jaejoong to agree to this. Yoohwan wants to work. He wants a job. Let him work. Let him strengthen his lungs. Let him have some of his own money that he can earn without getting on his knees for someone and money that he can spend on whatever he wants.”

Yoohwan smirked, face a little pale from the coughing. “I don’t mind earning money from my knees.”

“No,” Yoochun snapped.

Yoohwan sighed and moved toward his brother. “Let me try, okay? You’re always telling me you want me to do something normal. Well, this will be normal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know. Let me do it anyway.”

Yoochun did not uncross his arms as his brother hugged him and pressed a kiss below his ear. He huffed and shifted, but only because he was trying to stay angry.

“Besides,” Yoohwan added. “It’ll give you two time to fuck without having to worry about me listening in.”

Yoochun met Changmin’s eyes, and Changmin knew he’d been caught, though he was not surprised that Yoohwan had figured it out.

Finally, Yoochun nodded. “Fine, but if it’s too much for you ...”

“No more difficult than trying to breathe with a cock down my throat.”

Yoochun growled, hooked his hand around his brother’s neck, and yanked him forward for a firm kiss. “You are not allowed to do that.”

Yoohwan smirked. “I know.”

Yoochun shoved his brother away, though not harshly, and stomped his way to the bathroom. The door slammed.

“Thanks, Changmin-hyung,” Yoohwan said and smiled. “I appreciate it even if you only did it so you could fuck my brother.”

Changmin rubbed the back of his neck. “That was only part of it.”

“Most of it.”

Changmin nodded. “Okay, most of it.”

Yoohwan chuckled. “Is my new boss hot?”

“I heard that!” Yoochun shouted from the bathroom. “Not allowed!”

Changmin smiled. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Good.”


	8. Sex (and Love)

Yoochun paced across Changmin’s living room. When the space in front of the couch was not enough, he went around it, and into the kitchen, down the hall. He glared whenever Changmin even thought of saying something. So Changmin kept quiet, sat on the couch with his laptop on and tried to concentrate on stupid stuff on the Internet instead of on Yoochun.

With Yoohwan gone for his very first shift at Kiss B, it would have been a perfect time for more intimate activities. Changmin should have known that Yoochun would not be able to relax.

“He’s going to be fine,” Changmin said.

Yoochun shot him a look. “This is all your fault.”

Changmin smiled. “It is. Calm down. He’ll be just fine.”

“Do you have any idea what it feels like to not know where someone you love is at? Do you? He could have been hit by a bus on his way there. He could be in a dark alley with some asshole fucking him. He could--”

“He could be at Kiss B cleaning tables and doing dishes like he is supposed to be.”

Yoochun growled.

“I’ll text Jaejoong and make sure he showed up, okay?”

Changmin texted Jaejoong: _Kid okay?_

The response came a few minutes later: _Perfect. He’s a hard worker and a quick learner. You forgot to mention that he is also a terrible flirt._

Changmin chuckled: _He’ll fit right in._

Jaejoong sent back a few complicated emoticons.

Changmin relayed the conversation.

“Fuck,” Yoochun muttered and sat on the couch. He buried his face in his hands for only a moment and then leaned back. “Distract me?”

Changmin pondered him for a moment, long enough that Yoochun opened his eyes and smirked. The look shot lust straight down to Changmin’s dick.

“Yeah, okay.”

Changmin closed his laptop and just managed to set it down and not throw it to the floor. He fell to his knees and moved to Yoochun. He was leaning back, arms and legs spread on the couch, head resting on the back and leaving his beautiful neck for Changmin’s mouth. Changmin ran his hands up Yoochun’s thighs, using them to lift himself up, before pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“What do you want?” he whispered.

Yoochun smiled. “You’re creative.”

Changmin was not sure about that. He did not want to do anything creative. He only wanted his mouth on Yoochun’s skin. He wanted to pleasure Yoochun in all the ways that he had pleasured Changmin.

“Take your shirt off,” Changmin said and sat back on his feet, running his hands up and down Yoochun’s thighs.

Yoochun grinned and gripped the T-shirt before pulling it over his head. Changmin went right to his nipple with a wet tongue, and Yoochun tangled his hands in Changmin’s hair with a low groan. Changmin closed his mouth around the nub, sucking only lightly. He never wanted to hurt Yoochun, not the way others hurt him. He paused only to kiss Yoochun’s mouth and then went to the other nipple.

Yoochun groaned, hips rising from the couch. Changmin kissed down his stomach, pausing at his belly button for a few soft licks. He wanted to go lower, but he had to wait, just a little bit, have Yoochun invite him down to his cock instead of just taking what he wanted.

What he needed. He needed Yoochun in his mouth. In his heart. In his life.

He pulled away with a gasp and once again pushed up with a firm grip on Yoochun’s thighs and attacked his mouth with a heavy kiss.

Yoochun gripped his body and his legs lifted, hooking around and pressing heels into the back of Changmin’s thighs. He yanked himself away with a gasp, head smashed into the couch. Changmin kissed down his neck and to his collarbones and over the sensitive skin that had Yoochun twitching.

“Hyung, hyung.” One hand left Changmin’s back and pushed at his sweats.

Changmin smiled against his lips and let himself fall away slowly. He landed back on his knees and, this time, put his hands on his own thighs. He waited for Yoochun’s breath to deepen, for his shaking hands push at his sweats. He curled up his legs and Changmin finally helped him peel the pants away. Yoochun kept his legs spread, put his feet back on the ground, and stroked his own cock.

Changmin licked his lips. “Can I suck on you?”

Yoochun whimpered. “Yes, please. Yes.”

Changmin ran his hands up Yoochun’s thighs, fingers brushing over the soft hair and he smiled before leaning down to suck Yoochun’s cock into his mouth. He thought of teasing, but he was too eager for that. He wanted to feel Yoochun in his throat too much to tease.

Yoochun wrapped his fingers in Changmin’s hair again, pulling with every strong suck. He panted, moans and whimpers of Changmin’s name echoing around them. Yoochun was so good at pleasuring Changmin, he only wanted to return the favor. His hands were not idle, sliding up and down his thighs, fingers tweaking nipples, cupping Yoochun’s balls, tugging.

Yoochun’s legs lifted from the floor, heels settled on Changmin’s back. His hips lifted from the couch, gagging Changmin. He pressed the back of Yoochun’s thighs, pushing his legs up, and his mouth went down. He paused to suck on his balls for a moment, and then went to his cleft. He ran his tongue down the middle and then up a slim curve of asscheeks. He slipped his hands toward the couch, spread Yoochun open and licked at the crinkled skin of his entrance.

Yoochun keened, butt lifting off the bed. His hands left Changmin’s head and gripped either side of the back of the couch instead.

With Yoochun’s arms spread and his legs up, Changmin had the perfect access to drive Yoochun crazy with his tongue. And his fingers. With spit dripping down his cleft, it was easy to slip a finger through it and press lightly against Yoochun’s entrance. His breathing sped up, his skin twitched. Changmin pressed one finger inside him and used his other hand to stroke Yoochun’s dick. He kept licking above his finger, sucking on his balls, and the sensitive skin by his hole.

Yoochun thrashed on the couch, moaning, head spinning. Changmin doubled his efforts. He wanted lube to press two fingers into Yoochun but did not dare without it. He did not want to hurt Yoochun. He used his tongue instead. He took both hands to his ass, spread him open and licked him, pressing his tongue as deeply as he could. Yoochun stroked his own cock. Changmin sucked and licked and played.

Yoochun whimpered, body suddenly jerking away from Changmin’s ministrations. Changmin pressed a finger inside him again and leaned up, using a firm grip on his knee. Their mouths molded and Yoochun shook, crying out. Changmin kept hold of Yoochun’s plump lower lip with his teeth, and then Yoochun was kissing him again, gasping, twitching, and shuddering through his orgasm. His body sagged away, and Changmin moved his kisses to his cheek and neck. Yoochun ran his shaky hands over Changmin’s back.

“Good?” Changmin asked, licking at a nipple and moving his finger slowly.

Yoochun made a noise of agreement. “Know what would be better?”

“Huh?”

“Your dick inside me.” He opened an eye and smiled. “How ‘bout it?”

Changmin thought about it. He really wanted to, but he wasn’t sure if Yoochun really--

“Seriously?” Yoochun asked. “Do you not want me now that I’m no longer a whore?”

Changmin choked on nothing. “You aren’t ... wait, what?”

Yoochun huffed and put his feet on the floor. “I can pretend if you want, but come on. I haven’t had sex for weeks now.”

“Having withdrawals?”

“No. If I was having withdrawals, I’d go get it from whoever would give it to me.” His deft fingers went to work on Changmin’s jeans. “I’m having cravings. For you. I want you. I want you inside me.”

Changmin shivered and allowed Yoochun to take his clothes off.

“You’re not selling yourself anymore?” Changmin managed to say, voice cracking as Yoochun gripped his cock and stroked.

Yoochun gave him a very unimpressed look that had Changmin wincing in guilt.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I ...”

Yoochun climbed off the couch and headed to the bedroom. “No, I haven’t. Do I need to?”

Changmin scrambled after him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think...”

“Normal for you, hyung.” Yoochun fell onto the futon and then smiled up at Changmin. “You need a real bed, hyung.”

“Maybe.” Changmin crawled over, trying not to shake too much. Yoochun’s fingertips trailed up his arm. “I’m sorry. I did not know that you’d stopped selling yourself.”

Yoochun shrugged and looked away. “I didn’t tell you. I’d hoped you’d just figure it out yourself, but I should have told you.”

Changmin smiled and kissed him.

“You were right, hyung,” Yoochun continued. “You’re offering to help us and we should take it. Because my brother is a sly brat, we have enough money saved up for his medicine. And because you are a sly brat, Yoohwan has a job. We’ll be okay if you don’t mind us living with you for a while.”

Changmin grinned. “I don’t mind. But I don’t want you to think you have to have sex with me as a payment of any kind.”

“I don’t. If I did, I would have jumped your body sooner even with my brother in the same room.”

Changmin laughed. “And now that he is gone for--” He looked at a clock. “--another two hours, let’s take advantage of it.”

Yoochun laughed too and nodded.

Changmin kissed him quickly and then kneeled and reached out to get lube from his dresser drawer. Yoochun stroked his cock, making Changmin shake and threatening his control. Or lack thereof. He quickly poured lube over his fingers. Yoochun released his cock only to lift his legs and grabbed behind his knees.

Changmin swallowed and kept his focus on Yoochun’s body. Not his face. If he looked into his eyes too long, he’d probably say something stupid. He pressed two fingers into Yoochun’s entrance. Yoochun moaned, body shifting. Changmin licked his lips and poured lube right onto his cleft.

“More,” Yoochun said. “More.”

Changmin pumped his fingers. He put the lube down and used his other hand to tug on Yoochun’s dick. Yoochun was nodded, frantic movements punctuated by pleading noises. Changmin pressed in a third finger, going slowly.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Yoochun demanded. “Fuck me!”

Changmin chuckled, spreading his fingers. But he did not succumb to Yoochun’s continuous demands. He went slowly, stretching and playing with Yoochun’s body.

“Please,” Yoochun whimpered, the volume of his broken voice much lower than before. “Please.”

Changmin wondered how many others Yoochun had begged to fuck him. He hoped he was the only one. He finally pulled his fingers away. He shifted between Yoochun’s knees and pried his fingers from his skin. He pulled Yoochun close and used one hand to swipe his cock up and down Yoochun’s cleft.

“Please,” Yoochun said and gripped his wrist.

Changmin smiled and with a heavy moan, slid into Yoochun’s throbbing entrance. Yoochun moaned and Changmin shifted on his knees, waiting until Yoochun had also shifted to an angle he liked.

With a nod of Yoochun’s head, Changmin moved. He kept his hands on Yoochun’s knees, eyes shutting from the pleasure. He thrust slowly, almost pulling all the way out before sinking back in.

“You okay?” Changmin asked after a few more thrusts.

Yoochun nodded. “Yes. You?”

Changmin chuckled. “Definitely.”

Yoochun reached up with one hand and Changmin leaned over him, changing the angle of his thrusts, they both moaned just as they kissed and Yoochun’s arms wrapped around Changmin’s back. Changmin rocked into him, not really leaving his body. Their skin stayed pressed together. Their lips parted only long enough to gasp for breath. His orgasm was slow, a burn that had tears stinging his eyes. He panted against Yoochun’s skin, hips snapping forward. He propped himself up with an elbow by Yoochun’s head, shaking and stuttering the feel of Yoochun around him in painful noises. It didn’t hurt, nothing hurt, except knowing that Changmin would have to leave his body eventually.

Not yet though. Not for a while.

Yoochun tangled his hands in Changmin’s hair and pulled their lips back together just as Changmin came. He groaned in relief as the pleasure exploded, hips snapping forward a few more times, before he froze and just pumped his release into Yoochun. And then he collapsed, and Yoochun laughed, arms around his back, lips on his neck.

Changmin hummed at the zinging in his skin and billowing noise in his ears. He lay there until Yoochun pushed at his shoulder. With a whimper, Changmin rolled off Yoochun, their sweaty skin sliding together, and onto his back. His body shook as he slipped from Yoochun.

Yoochun smiled and crawled over him, kissed his lower lip. “I have an idea.”

“Huh?”

“Round two? Interested?” He sat right on Changmin’s cock and rocked his hips.

Changmin moaned, hands gripping Yoochun’s hips. “Yes. Very. Very. Interested.”

Yoochun laughed. He lifted Changmin’s cock, laughed harder at the spasms that wracked Changmin’s body from swiping the extra-sensitive head up his cleft, and then he sat. Changmin moaned. Yoochun gripped Changmin’s chest and rolled his hips, lifting a little, and squirming for comfort.

Changmin whimpered, hands tightening on his hips.

“You don’t mind if I ride you until you’re completely covered in my come, do you?”

Changmin moaned and shook his head. “Please.”

Yoochun’s smile, his laughter, his shining eyes, were the things that Changmin knew he would remember about this moment for the rest of his life.

\---

**Epilogue: LOVE**

“Where are we going?” Yoochun asked, trying to keep up with Changmin’s quick pace set with his longer legs.

“You’ll see,” Changmin said and smiled at him.

Yoochun grumbled at being manhandled this way, but that only brought up images of being manhandled in bed, forced (yeah, forced in the good way) to his stomach, head pressed against floor, ass in the air for Changmin to fuck. He blushed and swallowed, trying to get moisture back into his mouth.

They entered a building and Changmin led him up four flights of stairs. Down a hall of apartments, Changmin stopped at a door and used a key to open it. He held open the door and smiled at Yoochun in invitation.

Confused, Yoochun walked inside. The apartment had tile floors that gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the large picture window. To his left was a kitchen, and then a hallway.

He looked over at Changmin.

“Jaejoong knows the man who owns the building. He’s willing to give us a deal.”

Still confused, Yoochun just stared at him.

Changmin smiled. “Look, right now, you and Yoohwan are like visitors, just staying over in my apartment, especially Yoohwan who has to sleep on the couch. Here, well, he’ll have his own room. This ... well, if you want, this will be our place. Where we can live together, not just where you’re staying with me. It’s two bedroom, two bathroom. You and Yoohwan can pay half the rent and bills to make it fair.”

“This ... this is ...”

“I want to live with you,” Changmin said and took his hand. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Even after more than six months, the gesture still brought a blush and smile to Yoochun’s face.

“Say yes,” Changmin said.

“I need to talk to Yoohwan first.”

Changmin smiled. “Okay, fine, but then say yes.”

Yoochun laughed. He put his arms around Changmin’s neck and lifted up just enough to kiss him. “You’re so sweet to me.”

“It’s because I love you.”

Yoochun’s smile widened and he kissed Changmin firmly. “It’s because I’m intriguing.”

The unsure look on Changmin’s face was almost laughable, and Yoochun did laugh. He gave Changmin a few more kisses. “I love you too.”

Changmin buried his face at Yoochun’s neck, his body shaking.

“Thank you,” Yoochun said. “Thank you for loving me, protecting me.”

Changmin pulled away enough to press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for following me.”

Yoochun had no idea what that meant, but then Changmin’s knees were bending and Yoochun smirked, and he had no problem with following Changmin down to the floor.


End file.
